tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24377287459702095212024-02-19T06:36:30.480-08:00Tony's Vietnam BlogTonyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11124052758557171261noreply@blogger.comBlogger29125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2437728745970209521.post-60360314951028876672011-07-26T10:28:00.000-07:002011-07-26T10:28:18.581-07:00Family and More MemoriesSo I'm going to cheat. I've been home (which <i>is </i>the USA for you tea party people) since the 20th of July but I'm going to pretend I'm still in VN so I can finish up this blog. Thus, I must ask you to suspend belief and imagine real hard I'm still back in Vietnam, forgetting the fact I have been stuffing my face with high fructose corn syrup and processed foods for the past week.<br />
<br />
Done? Okay.<br />
<br />
I finished up my stint in Saigon for about 6 days. Now, if you have heard me talk about my family in Saigon, it may seem like I hate them--and to an extent, I do in that they suffocate the hell out of me and as DJ Jazzy Jeff would say, they "just don't understand" or get me, mainly my sarcasm, and this results into them thinking I am the dumbest person in the world.<br />
<br />
Example: I leave the house without permission to walk around. Now understand, this is after I have lived in Hanoi <i>practically by myself</i> for 10 months. They call me a couple of times and I just tell them I'm walking. I'm hungry and buy a sweet bun. I return home and my aunt looks surprised I can feed myself. <br />
<br />
"How much did you buy that?!?!" <br />
I reply, "300k [15 dollars]." <br />
"OH MY GOD YOU GOT RIPPED OFF!!@!@!@"<br />
I have a blank stare. "You know 300K is 15 dollars. Who would buy a bun for 15 dollars?" <br />
"WHY DID YOU BUY THAT FOR SO MUCH!@!@??"<br />
"I didn't really buy it for 300k..." Sigh. I spend 10 minutes trying to tell them I was joking...<br />
<br />
Example 2: I go for another illegal walk. I return.<br />
<br />
"Where were you?"<br />
"Walking."<br />
"Do you even know where you are going??!?@!"<br />
"Nope. And by walking down the street, I was mugged, lost my cell phone, and had to eat a dead rat on the street to survive."<br />
"WHAT?!@?! You got MUGGED#!@!!??"<br />
"No..."<br />
"OH MY GOD, and YOUR PHONE!@!??"<br />
"No..." Another 20 minutes there.<br />
<br />
Example 3: There is an ad in VN TV and movie theaters that show a white couple screaming at a spider. A white girl pops in and googles on her phone how to kill spiders. However, she does it in Viet. <br />
<br />
I say, "Wow, her Vietnamese is really good. Even better than mine!"<br />
My cousins looks at me. "No, they use computer animation to do that. You see, she really doesn't know Vietnamese..."<br />
"I know...I was joking and trying to make a comment about race and advertising in VN....you know what, just FUCK IT and everybody get a sense of humor!!" (This was a boiling over point--And the f--k it part was in my head)<br />
<br />
Another thing that bothered me was really a translation issue. Now I can almost eat anything. My limits include dogs, cats, and durian (sau rieng). Other than that, I am good to go. My family would try to feed me every 2 hours (see post about food/eating). As a normal person, I don't eat that much so I would politely decline if they offered food because as an <i>adult</i>, I have learned to understand signals my body gives me, such as "I'm not hungry right now." Yet, when I decline food, they say khong biet an, which translates to "I don't know how to eat that." As a person who ate a rat on the street to survive, I find that really condescending and it always pissed me off because I don't want to be labeled as the pansy "I like my lettuce e coli free" fancy-pants American who is afraid of oriental food. I can and have eaten almost every major dish of Vietnam. <br />
<br />
The phrase "khong biet an," however, does mean something a bit different than its literal translation. I know this but it still angers me for the reason above. It usually means that a person doesn't prefer to eat a certain food, as in I don't favor this specific fruit. This complicates things as when they say that, they decide I'm still hungry, they just recommended the wrong dish and still push food towards my digestive system, not understanding that I don't eat because I'm NOT hungry. It also angered me that none of them recognized that nobody in the family wanted to eat every 2 hours, showing that NORMAL people don't eat this much. Yes, I get they are trying to be nice, but please leave me alone. [Slams door, listens to Nirvana with my lower lip out]<br />
<br />
Yes, looking back, I was a bit of a cranky pants to my family, but I did cool off, at least I tried to, at the end of the week. And yes I do sound like a 15 year old teenager with a bad tude because my parents never did this to me during my teen years so here was my chance to be a rebellious teenage at age 24.<br />
<br />
Still, I like my family. If you think about the situation, I guess I can understand their position: 1) They are responsible for me in a "foreign" country and have to answer to my parents 2) I'm kind of a big deal, 3) and here is the toughest one, <i>I probably will not make it back to VN before some of them die.</i><br />
<br />
So while I wished they would be more considerate of what I wanted--for example, just room to breathe--I do realize VN is not a yearly trip for me and I have only meet my family 3 times in my life. I don't like to think about this stuff, and I'm sure most don't, but it is something I need to recognize and accept. A week of being sheltered isn't so bad in the long run, considering these may be the last moments I spend with them. It was nice to share that time, even if it wasn't very pleasant for me, but you got to be less selfish when it comes to stuff like this.<br />
<br />
To pump up my ego even more, I also recognize that from my dad's side, my two sisters and I are the future of US-VN relationships for the family because my dad is the only member here in the US. This might complicate things in the future in terms of money (see <a href="http://topdocumentaryfilms.com/daughter-from-danang/">Daughter From DaNang</a>--also an example of suffocating family life, though I'm not a big fan of her actions. Also, right now, money isn't a big deal as I am still a student, thus I am POOR. Please donate to my bank account.), but I do feel I should have some connection to them presently and in the future. And to be realistic, if I was getting older and towards the end of my life, I would want to spend as much time with Tony as possible.<br />
<br />
So there are some memories of my family life in VN. Again, messy yet loving. So, you know, like <i>every</i> family in the world. I know I have become negative Nancy again, but good times include really good food (when I was hungry), fun conversations, and sad, yet meaningful goodbyes.<br />
<br />
More quick memories:<br />
<br />
The airport security stopping me in Saigon for my 300 pirate discs. "Well the American shows are okay, but we're going to have to take the Vietnamese films." That comment was surprising to me--last time, it was the American DVDs causing problems, not the VN films. After some haggling, I was let through. Don't tell the dude this, but I was on the verge of giving him 20 bucks, with the upward limit of 75 dollars. Informal Economies. It's for Research. Learning about piracy culture. Pick one of those excuses and don't judge me.<br />
<br />
Seeing a European tourist cry because she was being honked at too much when crossing the street. This is why I believe when the nuclear Apocalypse comes, as foretold in the book of Sarah Connor, people from third world countries will do MUCH better than us wimpy first world peeps. <br />
<br />
Another example. Seeing a small kid, maybe 5 or 6, pick up a leaf. I'm thinking, Oh that's cute. Him eating the leaf. Oh shit. Seeing stuff like this has made me much more humble and now I have this nasty habit of labeling things "first-world" problems and "real" problems. Don't get me wrong, I still complain a lot about stupid things, but I try to be more aware of real problems.<br />
<br />
Example of "first-world" problems: Oh man, Netflix is now 15 dollars. I have to pay so much to stream movies through my xbox. Oh geez, life is hard.<br />
<br />
Real problem: Shut the fuck up. I just ate a leaf from the street for lunch. Take your twitter problems and shove it up your ass. [This is why this is a nasty habit]<br />
<br />
Post is getting a bit long. Save more for later.<br />
<br />
tonyTonyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11124052758557171261noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2437728745970209521.post-26343886459275131372011-07-13T23:55:00.000-07:002011-07-13T23:55:56.455-07:00Countdown to the end...Please play this song when reading this post. Unless you live in the USA then play the second song. Yes, I take blogging to the next dimension.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/XQtAOuBjysc?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/4HSBWSoMna8?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><br />
So I've been accused for painting a negative picture of my "homeland," but only from one person and her opinion doesn't really matter anyways. Looking back, I would say yes, the term Hanoian Assholery could be taken as a less than positive term and there are some posts about the more darker sides of the Vietnam. Still, I stand by my blog (unless later on I get called out, then I will deny, deny, deny) because I feel I defend VN a lot in many ways and (hopefully) don't illustrate VN in terms of black and white, but messy, conflicted, and complex grays, perhaps similar to the way I see and feel about VN as a person who straddles the line between local and foreigner. Plus, if I only did positive posts, wouldn't that make me a communist propaganda machine?<br />
<br />
As much crap as I give Hanoi, I really enjoyed my time there (turn the music up if you are on track 1) and it was a pretty sad time to leave (I left two days ago). It was much harder than I imagined to "chia tay" (literally split hands but used as semi slang for breakups/leaving relationships) with people, though I blame all these people for giving me gifts that made me go over the airplane weight limit by 50 kgs. (However, I was only charged for 30 because either I was cute or the woman behind the counter was really bad at math. Considering she's Asian, the only logical conclusion was that I was so cute, she saved me 40 dollars.)<br />
<br />
So special shout out to my research peoples, who considering the nature of my research, were surprisingly really open about their work and literally took me in as family. Another to people who helped me out with my Viet, get settled in with research connections even before I got here, and took me out to see the city of Hanoi. And last in my <a href="http://www.cracked.com/article_14990_what-monkeysphere.html">monkey sphere</a> (not really an academic source but good enough for this blog) are the people who introduced me to the concept of the monkey sphere slash jump until you want to vomit and pass out club (a special post will be dedicated to y'all later). And thanks for the shirt, as I have a pair of cutoff jeans that would totally rock that look.<br />
<br />
Ummm, so in dedication to the special city of Hanoi, I will try to list some of my most memorable experiences there, good and bad. While filled with Hanoi Assholery, there is much charm and a different kind of friendliness that accompanies the assholes. I would definitely visit it again and if things work out, perhaps live there for an extended amount of time again.<br />
<br />
One of the first memories I have of Hanoi is the bus system. Standing one day by a bus stop, a bus pulls up and does the normal "I can't fully stop or the bus will explode!!" routine and seeing a pregnant woman, I'm guessing 6 to 8 months, waddle-run while using her hands to hold up her stomach as the bus was creeping away at a fairly fast pace. Yeah, this isn't Kansas anymore--unless the pregnant woman was black, then that probably happens all the time in Kansas.<br />
<br />
Another bus story involves the great navigation of VIP in a bus in Thanh Hoa. Visiting her family in the countryside, we were on local bus that goes near her family's house. She asks the bus worker we needed to get to this stop and it seemed like everything was set. Until about 20 minutes (longer?) later, she asked when the stop was coming. Hah, the look on that guy's face. It kind of said "Shit, I forgot you guys were there!" It turns out we missed our stop by a bunch of kilometers and the WHOLE bus was laughing at us city-folk (or at least they were in my head). We got off and we had the option of walking to the next bus stop to retrace our route or call her family. However, at least the weather was nice and cool and the views of mountains and the green farms pretty relaxing. This was perhaps due to being in the city too long but it was eerily quiet and if we were minorities (which we kind of were), we would have been murdered Texas Chainsaw style. Fun trip, considering VIP was very consistent in her ability to get us in the wrong direction (we had another bus incident in the morning).<br />
<br />
Another "first" memory was my first time going to the market to buy veggies. After selecting about 3 kilos of food, I asked how much and the lady said 16,000 dong (80 cents). Now I really thought my Vietnamese was crap because there was no way that was correct and was somewhat bummed because I thought I at least mastered numbers. Turns out, I did know my numbers and that was the correct figure. Gosh darn that's cheap. <br />
<br />
And that's with me not even trying to bargain. One time, I was trying to buy toys for Christmas and I only had 300K. So in my mind, I was like "Let's do this, under 300k!!" So I picked out like 5 toys and I asked a very generic how much, expecting some relatively high price for VN, around 500K and I was planning to HALF that as my goal to get under 300k. How much? 220,000. Oh.....I'll take it. Damn.<br />
<br />
Two more quick points. I have learned that here in VN, you should NEVER go to the movies by yourself. I needed to see Rio, the Vietnamese VO version to compare it to another translation of the film. I managed to catch it on the last day it was playing, which was like a Tuesday and there were only 2 times: 9 am and 11 am. Fair to say, it was a random movie at a random time and I felt like some fun "Tony" time. So I went to Megastar and brought a ticket. The girl behind the counter asked, "Just one?" and gave me a puzzled face. I said "Yup." She laughed at me. I then went to the person that collects tickets. "Just you?" "Yup." She laughed at me. When I left the room, the people who clean up the popcorn laughed at me. I told a friend about this and she said, "You went alone...?" And then she laughed at me. "WHY?"<br />
<br />
Apparently, you are suppose to go to movies with other people so afterward, you can chat about it. It's like a tradition or something. So I tried it with my cousins and they picked the wonderful Transformers 3, though you have to give the Bay credit, he certainly can film an action scene. My impressions of the film: I found it amazing that Rosie Huntington-Whitely survived the last hour of the film (which was one huge battle scene) in heels. She ran across Chicago while it was being devoured in heels. Anyways, this movie led to the funniest/weirdest quote I've heard in VN a la my cousin: "It had too much talking!"<br />
<br />
tony<br />
<br />
Tonyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11124052758557171261noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2437728745970209521.post-26782464025254875362011-07-08T23:24:00.000-07:002011-07-08T23:32:34.955-07:00My Potential MistressesAwhile back, I was asked by my uncle if I had a girlfriend in Hanoi. Of course, I said no (wink, wink EAG) and he replied, "Tại sao, cháu sợ?" which translates to "why, are you scared?" This comment, however, was translated in my head as "Why not pussy, you scured...<i>bitch</i>?" And to that, I responded, "Psh, I'm playin' fool, I gots so many hoes, I don't even know what to do"--this was in Vietnamese, of course. [Editor's note: Yeah, surprisingly, the last comment did not happen. I know, shocking. What really happened was a weak "noooo..." was stuttered and a sad walk out the room, a la Arrested Development.]<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/oabcM9SOF-E?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><br />
<br />
Apparently, this is a very popular question and has been posed to me by my Xe om/motorbike taxi, who recommended I go to the countryside because it is "easier" to get women there (ya'll know how them country girls are) or the Philippines (yeah, don't ask because I don't know either), my other uncles, some male students, some female students (one which will be further discussed below), my landlord, and my neighbors. Now, I think <i>some </i>were just joking, but some others were a bit harder to discern their true feelings over the subject of having multiple "lovers." And honestly, I really believe that some of them endorse the notion that, in my case, it is okay to have a Vietnamese wife in VN and another wife (race is flexible here but Viet is preferred) in America. It is just the natural desire and virility of the Vietnamese MAN, so sorry EAG, it's in the genes. And in her jeans, and her jeans....[Ah, see what I did there. Poet, I be.]<br />
<br />
With that inspiration for this post, I will list some potential mistresses here in VN, in no particular order because ranking them would be a bit sexist and degrading, which does not happen ever in this post. No pics because that's becoming a stalker.<br />
<br />
<b>The Nursing Student in Saigon</b><br />
I met her in a cafe in Saigon around the time of Tet, the Vietnamese New Year. Normally a nursing student, but since everyone was off for holiday, she was helping out at her distant relative's cafe.<br />
Pros: She is very hiền (meek, gentle), which is a nice change of pace from EAG, who has learned this nasty habit of showing "independent thought," which ladies, is kind of a turn off, FYI (I think I used this joke before...sorry). When I asked her what she does for fun in Saigon, she said, "Oh, I like studying, checking blood, running tests, helping people who are sick, etc." And the crazy thing is that there was <i>no</i> ounce of any sarcasm or joking, and she said it in such a soft voice, it was ridiculously innocent and pure. And a person in the medical field that cares about patients? Psh, that's why VN is still a developing nation.<br />
Cons: I don't like to give blood for tests so I would imagine Friday nights of her taking my blood pressure and drawing blood from me a bit scary and boring.<br />
<br />
<b>The Film Student</b><br />
I probably shouldn't write about students, but I'm going to because this is pretty funny. Met her at one of my schools I work at in Hanoi.<br />
Pros: Very friendly and pretty. Straight to the point in many subjects.<br />
Cons: Maybe too friendly. Said I'm too young to be in a long term relationship and that I should break it up now because it would be easier now than later. Asked me what chance she has with me, in front of the entire class (maybe this is a pro--initiative? She got ovaries of steel, as I could never do that.). The other male students in the class told me to be careful and that she is called "Da Spider" and let my imagination determine what that nickname means.<br />
<br />
<b>The Highly Priced Makeup Salesperson</b><br />
I walk by this store to go do research and occasionally make eye contact with her. <br />
Pros: Very Pretty. Has a job. Knows how to do makeup.<br />
Cons: She is what some Viet people would call điệu, or "high maintenance," and that sometimes comes with an attitude undesirable to me (but maybe good for a mistress...). Stealing an artistic concept from John, I think with the amount of makeup she wears, if she ever does leave the air conditioned store, she would literally melt her face off. And we all have seen "beautiful" celebrities with their makeup off, so who knows what lies beneath. Yeah, I'm vain. <br />
<br />
<b>The Tour Guide in Dong Hoi</b><br />
Umm, she was the tour guide we had in Dong Hoi. Met her on the tour.<br />
Pros: I think most people on the tour (Fulbright Peeps) totally knew I was severely crushing on this lady. Cute. Cute. Cute. Cute shoes too. Can't really explain it, she was just adorable like a puppy rolling in spring grass. I'm sorry EAG but I think I love her in the way only 1990s R&B Boy Band sensation can describe:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/kcwxeJM0T04?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><br />
*But don't worry EAG, I still love more, via the better 1990s R&B Boy Band Sensation Boyz II Men:*<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/fV8vB1BB2qc?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><br />
Cons: Works in the tourism industry, though this would be good for me if I ever did marry her because of my English skills, I'm sure I would be a popular guide for English speaking tourists. Plus I can say, "I don't care what Lonely Planet says, <i>I'm Vietnamese, are you telling me I'm wrong??</i> Anyways, as I was saying, after Ho Chi Minh defeated Hitler and killed 32,195 Nazis in 1975..." (It's okay, I'm a product of Texas Public Education). Yup, she's close to perfection<br />
<br />
And no EAG, this is not a warning. Just step your game up is all I'm saying.<br />
<br />
tonyTonyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11124052758557171261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2437728745970209521.post-42717292490141740622011-06-14T11:29:00.000-07:002011-06-14T11:29:53.374-07:00Reverse Culture Shock and Reflections on my journey *eye rolls*So, long time no see. Well, my time in VN is coming to a close as I leave in late July, so after that, I'll probably put the blog down because I will no longer be worthy of having a blog. It's not like anyone can just blog--that's a bit vain don't you think?<br />
<br />
This blog with be a hodge-podge of recent events. Maybe I'll do it in the future but there were some blog posts I planned in my head but never felt like actually writing them. They include a tourist itinerary for a home stay with me, a graduate student (yes I hate tourism industry here), so you can experience the traditional life of a minority student in the US and a Xe Om (motorbike taxi) Driver love advice column, based on real advice my xe om driver has given me over the last 10 months.<br />
<br />
<br />
Okay, let's map this out, mainly for me. 1)<a href="http://eephotography.squarespace.com/ee-photography/2011/5/26/diana-ramesh-austin-wedding-austin-wedding-photographer.html"> My quick trip back home to Texas for my sister's wedding</a> (click for pics) and 2) Some reflections on my stay here in VN.<br />
<br />
<br />
In May, I flew home to Texas for a nice and hearty 5 nights. Let me tell you, try to never fly that much in so little time. 23 hours to DFW and then 22 hours back. From Tokyo to Hanoi coming back, I was literally freaking out and going insane from a combination of boredom, jet lag, and lack of sleep. Yeah, would not recommend. Being home was nice, if a bit surreal at times. Even a simple trip to good ol' Walmart was an assault on my eyes. I think we have a few of these supermarts in Hanoi but I have never been to one, sticking with the smaller markets, but it is just insane how much crap Walmart has in one building. I just can't explain how it feels to see all of these things laid out in a harshly lit warehouse. Basic things like driving and going to the mailbox were so eerily quiet. You just don't know how goddamn loud Hanoi is until you walk outside in Texas. It was peaceful but I think parts of me was wondering when the cars were going to hit me. <br />
<br />
Apparently, according to EAG, I now drive much more aggressively. Usually, that wouldn't take much change as my mom says I drive like a old lady, but EAG felt her life was in danger. At first I thought she was joking but it turns out she was not. Hmm, Hanoi has rubbed off on me a bit. <br />
<br />
The Hanoian Assholery, it seems, has also seem to have an affect on me. The wedding was in a small town, Marble Falls, Texas, and due to a "small" mix up, I was in the local Walmart. (*Side Story: So my mommy was in charge of my groomsmen suit and bringing it to the site, since I would be just flying in 3 days before the wedding. Anyways, the suit was misplaced and I didn't bring anything else to wear, so after a brief brouhaha, the only option was to, well, go to the local Walmart for a suit. Turns out, the suit was there all along and was in someone else's room. Hah Hah)<br />
<br />
So while there, I got stared at a bit, and by a bit, I mean people would gaze at me for several seconds and follow my movements. Being in a country where you are the majority, even if there are days where I stand out (though many days I do pass as Viet), for 9 months and coming back to small Texas towns is pretty jarring, as I am now clearly an "Other." I think I straddle the line of normal and other here in VN, but it is pretty clear-cut in Marble Falls, Texas. Also, I think pent up anger of foreigners staring and taking pictures of me here adds to this particular situation. There was one cowboy who I thought was a bit over doing the "let's stare at the Asian guy" that I said out loud if he "had a problem, cowboy?" Now, EAG was with me and bit mad at my loudness and attempt to "start sh*t," which I responded, "Am I the first Oriental he has ever seen?" to which she replied, "Probably, yeah." I think the older version would be less angry and aggressive in tone--I would have probably said something but in a lighter, joking tone--but it seems the hard streets of Hanoi have made me rough and abrasive...so hard that I'll blog about it! I also think I less patient and more likely to get mad at things. Oh Hanoi.<br />
<br />
*Another quick story--I was in the hotel near the wedding site and was getting my free waffle breakfast and at that time, I was then only Asian person there and getting stares from a bunch of old white people. Then Mrs. Moosa, a friend of my mom who was helping out the wedding, says in her really loud voice, "it's Tony! He just came from Vietnam!" Yes, that was true, but now it seems I just arrived here by boat. I speak English I swear!!* <br />
<br />
As for emotional reflections, the way my parents raised me has basically limited my ability to reflect emotionally as we don't do that "white people" stuff. I don't know what to say. I've never been one to say that this is my motherland and I don't really have deep issues with who I am or where I belong. VN has been great so far and has really changed my life, but the weird thing is, I'm not exactly sure what those changes are yet. No offensive but I've seen other FB talk about how they exhibit growth in this and that (ability to learn, think, understand that there are different cultures (damn, it took a Fulbright Grant and thousands of taxpayer money to learn that!)), but it all sounds like fluff and stuff you say at job interviews. I guess I have to think more about this part, though I may just keep it to myself, because it's my personal growth, not yours. Get your own.<br />
<br />
I'm really mean now.<br />
tony Tonyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11124052758557171261noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2437728745970209521.post-49187449843348518942011-04-15T02:07:00.000-07:002011-04-15T02:12:44.211-07:00The BEST way to ruin a mood in VNSo I was in a pretty good mood--we (VIP and I) had just had sushi and were on our way for a possible dessert course (Sorry EAG, it was totally a date). While we were walking, we arrived in front of <a href="http://www.highway4.com/">Highway 4</a> on Xuan Dieu road, which wasn't our dessert destination but came upon an event that changed my mood. A drunk man was chasing and beating his wife (presumably) in the street with about 4 or 5 male onlookers.<br />
<br />
I saw him throw her into the street and pull her hair, while attempting to kick her in the head (he barely missed). He was then somewhat restrained by the onlookers, but the woman continued to berate him, saying things like "he always seems to have time to go out to drink and that he goes out too often." After a few comments, he ran around the onlookers holding him and continued to chase her, attempting to slap her (some landed) and pull her hair. When her hair was being pulled, she did scream, but after he was restrained, she continued to talk to him. And so, this was repeated several times.<br />
<br />
Now, in theory, anytime a <u>person</u> is being beat, no matter what culture you are in, it is wrong. And, again, in theory, if you can help you probably should.<br />
<br />
But I didn't really help or intervene that much. Here is what my brain said: 1) I actually raised this question during a Fulbright Orientation and this bad-ass, ex-military security dude said do NOT get involved in the situation. 2) I don't know the full extent and details of this situation, mainly, I don't know if the onlookers are siding with a particular person and if I do get involved, what they would do to me, and possibly VIP. 3) He's drunk and like everywhere in VN, there are rocks and sharp things that can easily be used as weapons and can escalate this situation. 4) Let's say I do manage to restrain him--now what? Calling the cops in VN is like rubbing raw chicken into a open wound--it's not going to do any good, will probably make things worst, and is just dumb as shit. Hey, I love a Vietnamese man in a ugly-ass uniform, but honestly, they are corrupt and don't do squat (Hah, of course I'm joking you silly censors!). So anyways, yeah he'll continue the beating until he stops. 5) This is a different culture--I can't just come in and impose my will and expect things will all be dandy. Familial relationships operate differently here. Sounds dumb but you really can't just apply western notions over here, even on seemingly clear cut issues of abuse. 6) The presence of the wife would not make things better. I'm not saying she deserved it, but she did <i>nothing</i> to remedy the situation, i.e. walk away! As long as she was here, the fighting would not stop and I would be there for a long time.<br />
<br />
Okay, so I think all of those points are valid and reasonable and logically, I did the "right" thing. But my gut and heart say those are just excuses and I'm not better than any of the other guys who just basically stood around and watched. The only time I somewhat got involved was when she ran towards me and I held back the husband for a little bit. But then she continued to run and he continued to chase. And I held him a bit more, along with the other guys. I think as we left, the other guys were trying to calm him down, or at least get him out of the area.<br />
<br />
I feel guilty because I think I could have done more--as anyone who knows me, I really like to flex my hyper-masculine muscles through various means, mainly by dominating other humans and animals all the time, but considering he was drunk and from what I experienced holding him, I felt I could have "taken him." I'm not sure where I would have "taken" him, and, again, after that I wouldn't know what to do. Still, apparently a woman dies of domestic abuse every 3 days in VN.<br />
<br />
And so I sit and think about her.<br />
<br />
tony<br />
<br />
Note: highway 4 had nothing to do with this...just felt like advertising. Never eaten there.Tonyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11124052758557171261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2437728745970209521.post-47373549844543394952011-03-31T04:37:00.000-07:002011-03-31T04:50:08.731-07:00How to make Sapa Better[Sigh, remember to read the note to the Right in the About me section. This post is a bit aggressive in tone and language. Read at your own risk. Word of the post: sarcasm.]<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv9s-B2MFB5VPAhDAGk25avMNAeRfslZV7RxmtxapFs8g_7f56yKop3gO597I46GxvQM9gdNBZzehcVUwtYX86fjLzx4WZxSlcb3es-B5ba3RD8vKx5fNI5phILpdeaEsym0NjK4gDB3NL/s1600/DSCN4083.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv9s-B2MFB5VPAhDAGk25avMNAeRfslZV7RxmtxapFs8g_7f56yKop3gO597I46GxvQM9gdNBZzehcVUwtYX86fjLzx4WZxSlcb3es-B5ba3RD8vKx5fNI5phILpdeaEsym0NjK4gDB3NL/s400/DSCN4083.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsvaAqGrqwVMVSOZTzPbO4Muz6Hj_bdFMUcI4PnE2UUX75dbq_OKZLDl8BmyuXW0bNQMh_0zcyPYGOukekVnukHJSX2f7hHexy0aAsEiK_WZXtX7kYOLNsiiSnRq7PWw8Dh9JNXbFBDgUA/s1600/DSCN4112.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsvaAqGrqwVMVSOZTzPbO4Muz6Hj_bdFMUcI4PnE2UUX75dbq_OKZLDl8BmyuXW0bNQMh_0zcyPYGOukekVnukHJSX2f7hHexy0aAsEiK_WZXtX7kYOLNsiiSnRq7PWw8Dh9JNXbFBDgUA/s400/DSCN4112.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBBSHMUqpL859hmTE_lMTGAcS7dOyKZrsTDP7Oq99O5M531DiUak3LDDglZNDFBZMDXjAc2QfDlVypGxPYdTgniA6y1Mwi9vyqNFEsFyNb5_oQEnlN8UYi-9AjDLZoqVaU0SfymOT0XeFK/s1600/DSCN4120.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBBSHMUqpL859hmTE_lMTGAcS7dOyKZrsTDP7Oq99O5M531DiUak3LDDglZNDFBZMDXjAc2QfDlVypGxPYdTgniA6y1Mwi9vyqNFEsFyNb5_oQEnlN8UYi-9AjDLZoqVaU0SfymOT0XeFK/s400/DSCN4120.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMT4TFJTLsEVThAOrGCtNxY5RViDYZEfbcdmdVQi5G9XPo8qLKwr8b2xgJABT4QccE8mGEZHZTansR4BUKELABHZT94eF8dL4dhdkmETm4jiW-MUczSvBL-rrePGVF8yXGAib0ypjl12Md/s1600/DSCN4118.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMT4TFJTLsEVThAOrGCtNxY5RViDYZEfbcdmdVQi5G9XPo8qLKwr8b2xgJABT4QccE8mGEZHZTansR4BUKELABHZT94eF8dL4dhdkmETm4jiW-MUczSvBL-rrePGVF8yXGAib0ypjl12Md/s400/DSCN4118.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOgvOTaBE92e3FnmTKd62lW8FY0ck7-OwKhairoGvujQlDg1HPSchBppdyxNJ5BmA8MVOWAivp6hN2thOcML-eyqxwtGtkR0TEKvnYE_3NfxKAYO_T4t-YOu2yeq84W8WlSFGxGkL3P2RQ/s1600/DSCN4121.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOgvOTaBE92e3FnmTKd62lW8FY0ck7-OwKhairoGvujQlDg1HPSchBppdyxNJ5BmA8MVOWAivp6hN2thOcML-eyqxwtGtkR0TEKvnYE_3NfxKAYO_T4t-YOu2yeq84W8WlSFGxGkL3P2RQ/s400/DSCN4121.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br />
So I actually went to Sapa last November and been meaning to write this for awhile but just never got around to actually sitting down and typing this out. As you can see, Sapa, a mountainous region close to Vietnam's northern border inhabited by several groups of ethnic minorities and a large tourist attraction, is somewhat nice--if you like nature. However, after hearing a presentation about "eco-tourism," I was inspired to improve the tourism and overall experience of Sapa.<br />
<br />
From what I can remember, the basic tenets of eco-tourism are 1) Protect the environment while conducting tourist activities and 2) Respect all inhabitants of the area of the tourist site. More specifically in the case of point 2, "respect" only means through monetary means--at least that was the only thing mentioned and stressed in this presentation. So in other words, pay more money to see stuff and as long as you dish out the dough, you can do whatever you want.<br />
<br />
So here, in no order, are my suggestions on how to make Sapa and more tourist friendly place.<br />
<br />
<b>1) The Ethnic Minorities here should be more authentic!</b><br />
<br />
Whats wrong with this picture? <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuD4aTrnxhEDXEwgzCked0zTVuqKSsK0F8jWnfhoiAkiZQ63Uh60ysPHGRaHPCfc8s-TD0n-cgkQ7h7fK0u8Mlc3esMXOFB-lKA3xElvklntXUyeWvkAlv1fGgFfPGJXPOT9Bh8r-kFC_e/s1600/DSCN4126.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuD4aTrnxhEDXEwgzCked0zTVuqKSsK0F8jWnfhoiAkiZQ63Uh60ysPHGRaHPCfc8s-TD0n-cgkQ7h7fK0u8Mlc3esMXOFB-lKA3xElvklntXUyeWvkAlv1fGgFfPGJXPOT9Bh8r-kFC_e/s400/DSCN4126.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiezR7gcPfxsZPIqfw7q2A63q8ue29IEZA0rG6iZTLRfMeWvL2ZNAILAW_ROMT-duGNAh9niiGIogAhNHUxXP4cTQeJvuoXkOfNozOyxMD7par40dFxLjk7Fwa4dc0SdGyikZa5MMJIBexz/s1600/socks.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiezR7gcPfxsZPIqfw7q2A63q8ue29IEZA0rG6iZTLRfMeWvL2ZNAILAW_ROMT-duGNAh9niiGIogAhNHUxXP4cTQeJvuoXkOfNozOyxMD7par40dFxLjk7Fwa4dc0SdGyikZa5MMJIBexz/s640/socks.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Exactly, those socks and color combination are clearly not traditional!!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Look, let's be honest--I don't really care about these people or their history and if anything, I'm only vaguely interested in how they live. But, when I take the time to visit these people and bless them with my money, I expect the "real" thing and by "real," I mean my uneducated imagination of non-western, oriental savages covered in filth and dirt that I have gathered through various forms of discourse and media. I don't care that culture is in constant motion, incorporating new aspects every second, or that certain "modern" things have become part of your daily lives (and thus becomes YOUR culture), I want the ancient traditions that I make up, which you probably don't even do anymore, with dirt and poverty so I can pretend I am being educated about your shit and pat myself on the back for being cultural back at my hotel. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP59ckbA5KOBCHyzE6omwaOdMORiT-K6EaZrrCgO5lzL18CVccIP9N1XZohE4Xl7U_pDyPKX8VLzdWVZiSPkEx5SteC7LiVFm6_81DL8mb6pYutvkJj3oqx3RJScrLhhQPcAcGLi69_Y8t/s1600/DSCN4104.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP59ckbA5KOBCHyzE6omwaOdMORiT-K6EaZrrCgO5lzL18CVccIP9N1XZohE4Xl7U_pDyPKX8VLzdWVZiSPkEx5SteC7LiVFm6_81DL8mb6pYutvkJj3oqx3RJScrLhhQPcAcGLi69_Y8t/s640/DSCN4104.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Umm could you hide that shit?</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
So it bothers me to see any form of "Western" culture or any sign of upward mobility. Part of the charm is to see how much more advanced I am compared to your kind. I was also disturbed to see many tour guides, who are people from various ethnic minorities, be asked to take pictures and they did it without any problem--it is like they knew what a digital camera was. What would make this experience much better is if these guides would be like "Oh, what this shiny box that shoot light??" or "Oh this little nugget let you talk to spirit voices??" Of course, they should only do this for like a minute and then just take the damn picture but this would make me feel like I'm just discovering this tribe, right before I give them smallpox. <br />
<br />
So while eco-tourism supports giving more money as a reward for being "real," I want the money earned to be spent as it would back in the good ol' traditional times--on sticks and mud or something like that to make a hut or something. Don't get a toilet or medicine for your kid (unless it's traditional medicine) and DON'T even think about sending your kids to school and moving. Who are my grandchildren going to take pictures of and feel superior too? Speaking of schools....<br />
<br />
<b>2) Make this school less boring.</b><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpiq159bmCx_flLKRPeueyZZA0uIjIYc1azzdplrVolTPJuUW3VAA_k8euuHYlNrT-4z0zac-_r5DRNIdeupHtjKekWoiY0kvn8TKDcFcrzx8E3neFlTyeSZbpoV0A8ufCJVe37II09DWc/s1600/DSCN4130.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk1t5d_RtN8DbIX9W1wyDCTGlGyGg4iMWfNn5WmFHMCw4pYnsoHugrWetpIBR4v-tg4OLBzSv5T3HXCMiljjRdKFsJB7bP4Q49Y34EOXAQqLXvNBSXzOVbNQ9wyFdz69R4JxOxCVoq7SrE/s1600/DSCN4128.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk1t5d_RtN8DbIX9W1wyDCTGlGyGg4iMWfNn5WmFHMCw4pYnsoHugrWetpIBR4v-tg4OLBzSv5T3HXCMiljjRdKFsJB7bP4Q49Y34EOXAQqLXvNBSXzOVbNQ9wyFdz69R4JxOxCVoq7SrE/s320/DSCN4128.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
<br />
For some God only knows reason, this school is built on a popular tourist trail and is actually part of the tour. It is a very new and clean school and clearly shows the Vietnamese Government cares these<strike> attractions</strike> "people" and their future and I think it balances out the various human-rights issues. But what is most important is Vietnam cares about what foreigners think about how the government helps those most in need, and to be blunt, foreigners are more important because we have money.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpiq159bmCx_flLKRPeueyZZA0uIjIYc1azzdplrVolTPJuUW3VAA_k8euuHYlNrT-4z0zac-_r5DRNIdeupHtjKekWoiY0kvn8TKDcFcrzx8E3neFlTyeSZbpoV0A8ufCJVe37II09DWc/s1600/DSCN4130.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpiq159bmCx_flLKRPeueyZZA0uIjIYc1azzdplrVolTPJuUW3VAA_k8euuHYlNrT-4z0zac-_r5DRNIdeupHtjKekWoiY0kvn8TKDcFcrzx8E3neFlTyeSZbpoV0A8ufCJVe37II09DWc/s320/DSCN4130.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<br />
And the school is a great place for tourist. Never mind that a class was in session because we all know kids learn best when a bunch of white people take pictures of them. Research from MIT and Standford has proven that--Trust me, I ask.com it. And it is amazing that these savages can actually be taught something besides making crafts. Ignore the fact that many of these local tour guides can speak multiple languages (I heard Vietnamese, English, German, French, and their native languages) fluently, I found it wonderful and uplifting that the dregs and shit at the bottom of the barrel can work real hard while I take pictures of them. Cute kids. I almost donated 50 cents.<br />
<br />
With that said, I found the school overall to be a bit boring. Considering most kids drop out to become tour guides or make cultural stuff for hipsters, I found that two rooms for classes to be excessive. Empty one out and put in a bar or club. And I think a Ferris wheel would really take it up a notch on the fun factor. <br />
<br />
<b>3) Could people lighten the fuck up?</b><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHk5Qhcd5hT-ZegIq6MEyMfwYEtDKlsucaptGE6w8OP-N2YrZsY1at1xRXO5qwlyJxaXAghGdTO3x4bd89IKfQ2MLUqCxUZVHMTYIswqVu6sRHfoFa_kR1StKcqrXrtedZMnZ4-NRkSIlq/s1600/DSCN4093.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
</a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD2sZP1CxU_RukY4RLuT67ezFWJXnKd_DCsAyMqDa4nixDlpJXJyDhpB5XoEa-D2PUA65CxW4GEoVvYRHroY6WmemAYm2sZYz0Wc8tMT3fI8XkLE9Vsi_esk72e6LmoUTGEoO6Re__IL3l/s1600/DSCN4129.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD2sZP1CxU_RukY4RLuT67ezFWJXnKd_DCsAyMqDa4nixDlpJXJyDhpB5XoEa-D2PUA65CxW4GEoVvYRHroY6WmemAYm2sZYz0Wc8tMT3fI8XkLE9Vsi_esk72e6LmoUTGEoO6Re__IL3l/s640/DSCN4129.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
Okay, I'll be honest again--I don't like people who take pictures of me. I am outside eating some food at a stall and some tourists come up and take a picture of the stall with me, a "real" local eating (Hah, the joke's on them!). Or one time I was at a temple attempting to pray (or something like that) and a tour group came in and took pics of me. Sometimes I have a "fuck you" moment and sometimes it is just whatever, I'll track YOU down one day at church and I'll take photos of you (Actually as a joke, I was thinking of taking Asian tourists to various places like Churches, trailer parks, suburban areas to take pictures but that's another post--OHHH, he's mowing the lawn! Just like in the 50's!). But that's different--I'm American.<br />
<br />
So she's (in the pic above) probably thinking, "What is this a zoo?" and I would say YES, it is clearly a poverty zoo! And at zoos, the animals act cute and stuff. They LOVE it there! So why don't you just smile? You know I'm going to show this to my friends, right? Could you pretend you want to be in this picture? How about a funky pose? This is probably why you're poor because you are lazy.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj22ldX_CwxJd5QSAt5Jr-YvFkA8HEDOUuJKXGKkf1dm3hO9p1o9UxWGWuP15jQbPg3u3rHZpgMlPSKj04Sh8AGnOVJdY3l6sIMOhVqKOgPBHHXwYV4gGS-KvhM4nMtaXCZBH_-8_oZ-3jg/s1600/DSCN4127.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj22ldX_CwxJd5QSAt5Jr-YvFkA8HEDOUuJKXGKkf1dm3hO9p1o9UxWGWuP15jQbPg3u3rHZpgMlPSKj04Sh8AGnOVJdY3l6sIMOhVqKOgPBHHXwYV4gGS-KvhM4nMtaXCZBH_-8_oZ-3jg/s640/DSCN4127.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">YAY! Culture!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHk5Qhcd5hT-ZegIq6MEyMfwYEtDKlsucaptGE6w8OP-N2YrZsY1at1xRXO5qwlyJxaXAghGdTO3x4bd89IKfQ2MLUqCxUZVHMTYIswqVu6sRHfoFa_kR1StKcqrXrtedZMnZ4-NRkSIlq/s1600/DSCN4093.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHk5Qhcd5hT-ZegIq6MEyMfwYEtDKlsucaptGE6w8OP-N2YrZsY1at1xRXO5qwlyJxaXAghGdTO3x4bd89IKfQ2MLUqCxUZVHMTYIswqVu6sRHfoFa_kR1StKcqrXrtedZMnZ4-NRkSIlq/s640/DSCN4093.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6UiTTM2pAbmlWIqRRtiRAP5706DbIWhX8_ErK2Q9Ra_3sx-yzSbEMo5WPqt1OKLexvJvxQYgvjmFqxkDxxJI8e9ejw-G3MI-sGr_x2BoK5Y-t6eOZUEdtYF_CpzR6e3oamF9AkbY00von/s1600/DSCN4087.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6UiTTM2pAbmlWIqRRtiRAP5706DbIWhX8_ErK2Q9Ra_3sx-yzSbEMo5WPqt1OKLexvJvxQYgvjmFqxkDxxJI8e9ejw-G3MI-sGr_x2BoK5Y-t6eOZUEdtYF_CpzR6e3oamF9AkbY00von/s640/DSCN4087.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
So in conclusion, while sapa is a huge natural site of beauty, the human factor is kind of lacking. Step it up guys.<br />
<br />
tonyTonyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11124052758557171261noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2437728745970209521.post-88122154226947951852011-03-06T23:42:00.000-08:002011-03-07T02:08:47.880-08:00Soccer/footballSo apparently, soccer is very popular in the world, you know, except in the US. I believe the only time Americans get excited about soccer is during the world cup, which I think is kind of a "jump on the bandwagon" time created by marketing and hype of the event. Since being in Vietnam, I have watched more soccer games in the past 6 months than I have the previous 24 years in the US because my landlord and my neighbors are huge fans and occasionally invite me. (Little cute story: every time there is a game on, my landlord scarfs down dinner as fast as he can and keeps an eye on the clock so he doesn't miss a second of the game. He's like 60ish but he reminds me of 8 year-old catching his favorite TV show.) So now that I am a super-expert fan in the art of football, because we snobs know this is the <i>real </i>football, I have decided to support my teams by capitalist methods, mainly buying team clothing. So not only am I supporting my team, I can also become a walking billboard for their sponsors.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip0roJQ_CVXescc5g-EbiR_8o1FvphZxkghZZoLaez7KZGG6p9FM5lWy80XXUDG2LQI6nafcCkcXFlo4ncr4Epju9hOb2HOPSAUUCbF_ZsyGsLtPFEBBvb6B8FfSUr_udrpe79UoW_VWM_/s1600/chelsea.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip0roJQ_CVXescc5g-EbiR_8o1FvphZxkghZZoLaez7KZGG6p9FM5lWy80XXUDG2LQI6nafcCkcXFlo4ncr4Epju9hOb2HOPSAUUCbF_ZsyGsLtPFEBBvb6B8FfSUr_udrpe79UoW_VWM_/s320/chelsea.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chelsea sure looks good on a Sony, I mean, Samsung TV</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
Naturally of course, I am very selective in choosing my favorite teams. The process goes like this: 1) Who has pretty colors in their Jerseys. That's it. Does this make me a woman?<br />
<br />
So far I like Chelsea, Manchester United, and Liverpool because I think their jersey designs are neat. As far as the actually playing, it is okay and sometimes even exciting, though I have no idea about the standings or rosters. However, those concepts are for the brutes, as I am more specific in my entertainment and tend to appreciate the more shallow and materialistic side of football.<br />
<br />
In my quest for clothes, I decided I should start with the "official" avenues of acquiring merchandise and visited the Nike and Adidas stores. While the selection is great, the prices are a bit out of my spending range, starting from about 30 dollars to 75 dollars--which is not too bad but that is way too much for a sport that honestly bores me 97 percent of the time. What confuses me is that most of these clothes are made in Vietnam so you would <i>think</i> shipping would be cheaper, thus resulting in a lower overall price. Also, considering I have never met anyone who works in a clothing factory to be rolling in cash, I would think the labor would be <strike>more exploitative </strike> cheaper. Not a business person but I don't think that is how it works.<br />
<br />
Anyways, I then visited a....let's call it an "unofficial factory-direct outlet store for damaged soccer merchandise" to see if I could get anything cheaper. Now these places are fun--part of the game is to find the defect and haggle your price down. This particular store would be an extra challenge since it was located in a heavily tourist area so you know the markup would be higher than usual. So I go in and look at pants and ask in Vietnamese what the prices are. One pair is 160k. I ask for two pants and get it down to 240k, or 120k each, roughly 6 dollars for a pair Chelsea and ManU pants with just some loose threads and ripped labels. Now considering these "real" versions are like 50 dollars in the US and the Official stores, I say that's a deal. But I was wondering if I could push harder and save 2 more dollars.<br />
<br />
But then some tourists come and ask in English the prices of some shirts. 300k for a shirt. I ask the lady how much that shirt is for me and she said, "for you, 110k." I then decided I'm just going to quit while I'm ahead and brought the pants...though they did make fun of me because I brought two rival teams (Though the way I think of it, when both teams play each other, I always win). For you Americans, it is like buying a Cowboys shirt and a Eagles shirt at the same time. Yes, I think I will stick with the more complicated <a href="http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052748704281204575002852055561406.html">though less action</a> version of football...<br />
<br />
tonyTonyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11124052758557171261noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2437728745970209521.post-60580307668183873852011-03-01T08:54:00.000-08:002011-03-01T08:56:37.199-08:00Buying fruitBuying fruit here puts me in quite a dilemma: Should I try to save as much money as I can by haggling or should I just pay the extra money to a person who carries fruit on their shoulder for 13 hours a day? Although it may not sound that much, "unhaggled" fruit can cost up generally around a dollar more per kilo than market prices (maybe even more, though I will be honest and tell you I totally made that number up based on a few converstation between tourists and fruit sellers). If I buy 3 types of fruit once a week, in my ten months I will have lost about 120 dollars, which could have been invested in much more important things such as shoes or mirrors to celebrate my vanity and thoughtless consumer lifestyle. And remember, this is 120 dollars in VN, which can buy 960 loafs of french bread (banh mi). Though if I'm buying in bulk I could probably haggle the price down...Hell, I spent 130 dollars on ALL food one month when I only ate on the streets.<br />
<br />
Still, that 120 dollars is probably towards the high end for me considering 1) I am "Vietnamese"ish and have a basic knowledge of the language--others might have to pay a "white/non-Viet" tax which might shoot that price way up and 2) I don't eat 3 kilos (6.6 pounds?) of fruit per week, though maybe I should. But, overall, I think I get fairly good deals with maybe a couple of 1000 tacked on here and there. Not to sound like a Richie Rich, but that amount (~5cents per 1000) is not worth haggling over and as I hinted in my first line, it's not like I'm dealing with Bank of America or AT&T CEOs who jack my cash, lose it, and give themselves raises and a new penthouse, these are people who roam the street from 6am to 11pm trying to sell fruit.<br />
<br />
I really don't understand people who clearly have money (fancy suits) or foreigners who have enough dough to buy a plane ticket to Hanoi fighting over 20 or 30 cents (Oh, then they take a pic of the fruit seller with their 400 dollar camera. Oh my, poverty is so more exotic over here). Yes, you must be careful in VN or you will get ripped off but I think many translate that as you must squeeze every last penny from the price. Financially smart, yes, but if you do the math, fresh fruit is still much cheaper than the US (and probably less than wherever you came from). Example: From what I remember, I brought ginger in the states and for the size of my thumb, I paid about 20 cents? For 3000 dong (15 cents), I got a stick of ginger the size of my hand. Whoa, Whoa lady, how about 2500 dong?<br />
<br />
Buying bananas is especially troubling--I have two banana people. One is a deaf-mute little person, whose sales benefit a deaf-mute school (or so the sign says), and the other is an older woman about 80 who can barely walk and spends all day sitting on a corner selling bananas. I been to both and I <i>know</i> I am being ripped off and by "ripped off" I mean 25 cents more than it should be--this ain't my first banana-buying rodeo. Still, if you do the math, I'm getting some darn good bananas for about 30 cents a pound, which is just a bit cheaper than Texas prices when I left in August (~47 cents/lb).<br />
<br />
So here is how this converstation went down:<br />
<br />
Banana Seller: For that bunch, 20,000 dong.<br />
<br />
Me: Okay, Imma let you finish in a second. [I then interrupt her sign language by slapping her hands] Listen, you deaf-mute little person who sells crafts and fruit on the street to help fund a school that teaches blind, deaf, and mute people skills for living, I don't know who you think you are, but you are a despicable person. I, a person who has been blessed with all of my five senses and a decent monthly stipend that can very well afford this transaction, am appalled that you would take advantage of poor people like me and try to steal every dong I have worked for. You make me ill. How about 18,000?<br />
<br />
BS: Okay.<br />
<br />
Well, I have a secret. That didn't really happen. I fabricated that story so my blog would be more interesting. I brought the 1.3 kilos of bananas for a dollar and ate them. Probably because I have a soul and heart.<br />
<br />
tonyTonyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11124052758557171261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2437728745970209521.post-16603376901845398252011-02-28T08:55:00.000-08:002011-02-28T09:33:34.162-08:00More Bad ThingsWell, due to the great response of my last post, I will continue to be negative, but I will try to be much shorter...maybe.<br />
<br />
Continuing on my feminist failures, I will have to deduct 50 feminist points from myself. A group of friends, who <i>accidentally</i>, EAG, was comprised of 7 girls, and I went to <a href="http://www.expressrotaryhotpot.com/">Kichi-Kichi</a>, which is an all-you-can-eat rotary hotpot place where everyone gets their own mini hotpot, you pick raw stuff to put in the hot liquid, and cook it yourself. (see the link). So we were sitting at the bar getting our hotpot on and I had a person on both sides of me and got two conversations going. So when I talked to <strike>girl A</strike> Empowered Woman A, I had to turn the back of my head to Empowered Woman B. What I discovered that night is that Empowered Woman B liked to serve me food and put things in my hotpot when I wasn't looking.<br />
<br />
I actually remember my response that night when I discovered what she was doing: "Damn, that is some wife material!" I know, kind of sexist. But as a person who generally serves himself, turning to your hotpot and seeing delicious and cooked things magically appear in your hotpot was very convenient and for some reason, tastes much better. I think it was the mystery of the unknown and the surprise that came at the end of my search--what dead item was being cooked in the incomprehensible depths (or about a 7 inches) of my hotpot? Frog Legs? Clams? Tofu? Shrimp? Yes to all!!<br />
<br />
I told this story to EAG and told her cuz she was my <a href="http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=wifey">wifey</a>, I want surprises in my food. Then I thought it over and decided she would REALLY surprise me (i.e. "Is that wasabi in my ice cream?" Surprise!) so I took it back. The concept of women serving men food is bit complex here from my unofficial and unscientific study, which includes eating out and staring at people. The main difficulty is trying to figure out if women are just being nice (I think a lot of women who serve me are doing it because they are unsure I know how/what to eat) or if it is a result of some patriarchal ideology, or a combination of both. This is particularly difficult with younger people as there seems to be a more mixed showing. I do find, however, that many Asian female/Foreign Male couples do have the woman serving (and even feeding) men, which I don't think is bad but there is a patriarchal and post-colonial feel to it. Sigh, white men can never win =P and stop stealing OUR women!! says the guy with a non-azn wifey.<br />
<br />
For the older generation, I think much of it is rooted with patriarchy. My landlord told me her husband is just incompetent so that is why she usually does the chores around the house, but I think that incompetence stems from him never having to do anything. A funny scene occurred a couple of weeks ago; It was just me and the husband in the house, as the landlord was out of town, and I came home around 11 pm to find this poor little man scourge around the kitchen looking for something to eat (he's normally asleep by 10). I think he made ramen noodles.<br />
<br />
Food-wise, I'm okay but laundry I hate with a passion, especially here. The last two days were beautiful days--sunny and about 80ish degrees, something that hasn't appeared in Hanoi for weeks. So I decided I would do laundry tomorrow to take advantage of this sun and finally have some really dry clothes instead of the dampness that comes with cloudy cold days. Today was cloudy and dark. It's almost like living in Seattle...<br />
<br />
My last story also involves laundry. Lunar New Years Day, I went to shower. Being American, I am weak towards cold water, which is what my family in Saigon has concluded. So when I shower, they heat up water for me in a pot and pour it in a bucket for my use. Okay, no problem, a nice hot "shower" (I use a water scoop) would be nice. Not wanting to be wasteful, I used all of the hot water, down to the last drop. I then grabbed my towel and wiped my face and hair and started to dry my arms. I then look down and see these tiny brown dots all over me--I'm not wearing my glasses and I am that blind. Turns out those dots are ants that decided my towel was play area. So then, naturally, comes the biting and the stings that result from that. My only option--rinse myself off. But, being a non-wasteful person, I used all of my hot water and now had to rinse myself off with cold water, which as anyone who has started in the hot tub and moved to the pool knows, felt much colder than it really was because I was warm from the hot water. <br />
<br />
Ant bits on my neck, head, face, shoulders, arms and chest while I was shivering like a wet puppy. It seems I only get insect bites in large quantities over a large portion of my body (see HaLong Bay entry). Luckily, like AZN mosquitoes, these were tiny bites that didn't itch as much--I shudder to think if I was covered by Texas fire ants. Yeah, TEXAS AND AMERICAN ANTS ARE SUPERIOR!<br />
<br />
USA<br />
USA<br />
USA<br />
<br />
suck it communist ants.<br />
<br />
tony <br />
<br />
Oh and to ruin your day, the kitty in the pic on my sex post is dead. Got sick and died. This post is dedicated to you. RIP<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzGP5oRIStofd5NUNOuz5izrR67L7KS8oNsHQqLCxglkWk_YmTVBDI4EAFy_e6ZmyXXQ_cczC7TKMYvh656Eg' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe>Tonyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11124052758557171261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2437728745970209521.post-74982095381023335672011-02-16T08:21:00.000-08:002011-02-16T08:32:55.459-08:00Bad things about Vietnam<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWmqVTKo5WWxMcVXCZdrJGdNIOzSXn_7VWXEjyVg-_jax-Zfzhf3bU1Z2bytI7kT10rMR3gtoNyqGFEk9fo3BuXZYlY6LhtKYOeqT-N51T64LdVTlocQpNcgIYKm7Z1zbGb7rVynpiNe7x/s1600/DSCN4350.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWmqVTKo5WWxMcVXCZdrJGdNIOzSXn_7VWXEjyVg-_jax-Zfzhf3bU1Z2bytI7kT10rMR3gtoNyqGFEk9fo3BuXZYlY6LhtKYOeqT-N51T64LdVTlocQpNcgIYKm7Z1zbGb7rVynpiNe7x/s400/DSCN4350.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The view from my hotel in HCMC, very similar to my life in Vietnam....so deep (from the lack of depth?) and emo.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
<br />
Eh, it has been awhile...sorry. I was busy not caring about this blog and doing other stuff like going outside. And I left my sex post as the last one so maybe I should update at least once more. So I read a report that FB and blogs make people more depressed because, surprise, we tend to lie and exaggerate the current state of our lives--we are in essence performing and creating an online public persona and I believe generally people want to be "cool" (do people still use that word? I want to be up-to-date on my slang) and accepted among their peers. So when other people see what awesome lives everyone is having, they get sad...kind of like when you get to college and you discover it's not like those zits & tits movies. You know, how you don't go to parties every day and they usually end up in throw up or boredom rather than sex and how not only white people go to college or all black people at college don't have to play sports, and that women don't rip off their shirts all the time and, gasp, some of them are smart. Weird world.<br />
<br />
So, this blog will discuss what a horrible time I am having in Vietnam, well, at least to the limit that I don't set off red flags and big mean men in gaudy green suits (seriously, you're communist, not color-blind--even Lenin would say "that green is a bit off....") come bursting through the door.<br />
<br />
First, I can't breathe at night. My nose literally fills with snot and clogs up. I don't understand. When I blow my nose, mucus comes out but four seconds later, more mucus comes in. I don't know where it comes from or where it was being store that it happens that fast. I take Clartin daily, use a saline solution spray everyday to keep my nose moist, and brought a humidifier but nothing has worked. I have searched for a<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UFEXjzGagMI"> neti pot/nasal</a> cleaner in Hanoi but they don't seem to have one. I made a make-shift one with a water bottle (see dad, 2 years of Nuclear engineering paid off) but it is not as good as I don't think it provides enough pressure (okay dad, so maybe I should have studied calculus 3 harder...). I also found out that discussing how to clean out your nasal passages is NOT an attractive topic to your significant other. Anyways, I fall asleep with my mouth open, occasionally waking up because my brain is telling me, "please breathe more or you will die," and I end up with a sore throat in the morning.<br />
<br />
I folded and brought "Western" medicine, aka Oxymetazolin hydroclorid, which I have read that if you use this more than 3 times a week, you will become addicted, as in your nose will be unable to clear itself without this medicine. I don't think that is a good thing and certainly not a long-term solution (I am a "My body is a temple and I try to limit the adding chemicals to it" type, though I make an exception for gummy bears. But, I am not "I won't vaccinate my children cuz it causes Autism" type, though I did hear vaccines might make you die 80 years after you take them...did I just discover a link Jenny McCarthy?) Slightly positive note is that I have an appointment with an Vietnamese doctor who practices Chinese medicine in a center named after the Japanese Budda of Medicine alongside with a Swedish Acupuncturist--very transnational and we'll see how that goes. <br />
<br />
Another non-sexy topic is deworming. No, I do not have worms--at least I don't think so...I do eat on the street a lot...But a precautionary action to do while living in a third world country is to deworm yourself after 5-6 months. So I have been taking 2 pills a day for 3 days of medicine that eliminates any worms in my digestive tract (Yeah, I rather have chemicals than worms in this case). Just in case you were worried about my bowel movements. I know EAG isn't worried about my nasal problems or my bowel movements. An actual quote I said to her via skype: "Well, I got to go clean out my nose and deworm myself." I'm a bit confused but I think she is no longer attracted to me anymore. I don't know where I went wrong; I think that somewhere between "I going to make booger water" and "I'm taking medicine to kill worm parasites in my lower digestive system that may or may not exist," the romance disappeared.<br />
<br />
I blame it on the distance. I would not recommend having a relationship with a person who is in a time zone that is 12 hours different from yours because it is getting a bit difficult, as in I just miss her. I think the first couple of months was bearable but now it is just sappy. As I was telling SaB, I spend all day in bed with my head resting on my forehead pining for EAG--so thank you taxpayers for supporting my pining. (Though I shouldn't joke as I hear there are some big cuts coming from the Government. And I should probably stop sending letters to Joe Barton...) I'm not going dwell on this point, considering there are couples who go through tougher hardships (i.e. Soldiers in Afghanistan), but the point is I'm very lonely here sometimes and wish I had someone to <strike>use as a body shield </strike>hug as I cross the street.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1UYHMPBqOpVc8GcBHCvBVHOWznBTwDffayR-IWioTKQ3FEcsuSjSNNbmIAzZMJiX0aPOQElM4dD3LqpJ5Xfp740lz-T2z6jBuet9a-unFPybXB4eaUtcCI01tQDXcRgKGnyzWWyH40KMs/s1600/DSCN0405.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1UYHMPBqOpVc8GcBHCvBVHOWznBTwDffayR-IWioTKQ3FEcsuSjSNNbmIAzZMJiX0aPOQElM4dD3LqpJ5Xfp740lz-T2z6jBuet9a-unFPybXB4eaUtcCI01tQDXcRgKGnyzWWyH40KMs/s320/DSCN0405.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Worms...</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
She's actually planning to come here in May (sorry, that's good news) and I been trying to plan out some dates around the town. While there are a couple of spots I want to show her and I do love living in Hanoi, I find the food scene here, well, bland and disappointing. For the city that invented Pho, it makes a pretty weak bowl of Pho. Having eaten my fair share of pho, I think I can be a pretty good judge--I can tell you my mommy makes the BESTEST ever bowl of pho, though I think the general rule is that everyone's mommy makes the best bowl of pho, though my mommy's is the best--and while I understand pho is different everywhere (see my post on authentic Vietnamese culture), flavorless broth is flavorless broth. And generally, I find Vietnamese people's taste in cuisine the same; they tend to repeat food choices and never venture outside their culinary bounds. I love Indian food but it is very difficult to convince any friend to actually come with me and try Indian food, which Hanoi has a couple of decent spots. In other types of cuisine, however, Hanoi is severely lacking and I'm not surprised since most Vietnamese people won't go to these places.<br />
<br />
Example: I got some people to try Dim Sum from this Chinese/Viet joint. Yet, once we were looking at the menu, they all got scared and ordered all Vietnamese dishes. Overall, Dim Sum are mainly dumplings and generally speaking, Hong Kong/Chinese cuisine is not that revolutionary or different (I can somewhat understand hesitation to try Indian Food) from Vietnamese food--it's pork balls wrapped in wonton wrappers, which they have in Hanoi in soup, so I'm confused on where the fear comes from. (Oh and the dim sum was horrible.) I am not a picky eater, which is probably why I have to deworm (I'm really stretching out this deworming joke), and it frustrates me when people I hang out with limit my food choices--I usually visit places alone like a loser and they usually disappoint in the taste department.<br />
<br />
Speaking of taste, my lower-middle class background rears its head every now and then and after watching the Super Bowl commercials, I was craving Doritos. So I went to go get some and when I mean "some," I mean the imported kind which tastes closer to "home"--yes America and Freedom tastes like Doritos Cooler Ranch--and I don't mess around when it comes to Doritos. Turns out, the store closest to my house that has them ran out and I learned a medium sized bag (300 grams-ish) (no they don't have the Super 8 pound bags here, or what Americans call "the small bag") is 78,000 or 4 dollars. Not a big deal but 4 dollars for so little chips and early onset diabetes is a bit steep and the sad thing is I'm still going to buy them and eat them alone on my couch while watching Jersey Shore or Katy Perry on MTV Asia.<br />
<br />
Typing Katy Perry's name, who is clearly a Feminist hero, has reminded me of my last point: my feminist attempts in Vietnam. So far, no bueno. I was talking to a female student in January about what she wanted to do after she finished college. "Well I would like to be _________ and I think I would really enjoy doing it, but once I get married, I think I'll quit and stay home." Beep Beep Beep, Feminist Alarm! I responded (very angrily of course!!), "You know, you don't have to quit your job and stay home." I was met with a very, very blank stare. "Hmmm...what do you mean?" Oh boy. "Well, after you get married, you can still work. There is no rule that says you have stay home. If you like your job, you can continue to do it and then there will be more money that can help you and your family." "But what happens if I have kids? Who will take care of the house and kids?" "If you have kids, your husband can help out. [She made the ???? face] Last time I checked, Vietnamese men can wash dishes too. [Confused Laugh?] Maybe you can work part-time [I can't reveal her job but I know it's really flexible] and your husband can stay home sometimes and watch the kids while you go to work. I mean, it's okay to focus on your family, but I think if you enjoy your job, you shouldn't <i>have</i> to quit when you have a family." "But...it's Vietnamese tradition..." Oh, you can't argue with tradition...the converstation goes on but that fall back on Vietnamese Tradition argument is too strong for to break right now but maybe I should keep at it!<br />
<br />
<br />
Anyways, I have more sad aspects of my life that I will try to keep for later. Oh back to food. Can SOMEBODY in Hanoi please learn how to make hummus? Like good, lemony, tart, not watery hummus. Please!! <br />
<br />
Feeling less depressed?<br />
<br />
tonyTonyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11124052758557171261noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2437728745970209521.post-56502306009945298892010-11-22T03:03:00.000-08:002010-11-22T03:05:24.035-08:00Baby Massages and Happy Endings in Viet Nam<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja4-JsQTUp3MjO8svPCSlMm3CklfTHwgl41pCWgZjgibSxlobHTehzNyuFX6BR7mjsDHEBOzf1xmKs1iULUsIb-oIV1f855gg3M8N_mAPEs7wZfn_i3SDVHhNGQQEJIbIxWKM_6oPb6NLh/s1600/DSCN1106.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja4-JsQTUp3MjO8svPCSlMm3CklfTHwgl41pCWgZjgibSxlobHTehzNyuFX6BR7mjsDHEBOzf1xmKs1iULUsIb-oIV1f855gg3M8N_mAPEs7wZfn_i3SDVHhNGQQEJIbIxWKM_6oPb6NLh/s400/DSCN1106.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<br />
Just a reminder--please read the statement to your right about how I do NOT represent anyone important. This post will contain some sexual content, though nothing explicit and I would rate this as a PG-13 post at the most (I'm a prude). So if you are younger, please ask your parents to review the post before continuing, or most likely, look over your shoulder to check where they are and keep on reading. It really isn't that bad so I don't want to hype it up with the promise of Extreme Oriental sex. That's next week's post.<br />
<br />
This post, to my knowledge, is "true" as I remember it. EAG, EAG's Mom, and my Mom...read at your own risk. If you find this offensive or inappropriate, just remember this is reality for some people and try not to judge.<br />
<br />
There, all the politics out of the way. This post will be about my encounters with three female masseuses in Viet Nam, who turned out to be female sex workers. I know a lot of work has been done on this subject (Nguyen-vo Thu-Huong's The Ironies of Freedom: Sex, Culture, and Neoliberal Governance in Vietnam and <br />
<div class="text" style="font-family: inherit;"><div class="authors"><a href="http://www.springerlink.com/content/r37680234561t052/"><span style="font-size: small;">Commercial Sex Workers</span><span style="font-size: small;">: Condom Use and Its Correlates Among Female Sex Workers in Hanoi, Vietnam by</span></a><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=2437728745970209521&postID=5650230600994529889" title="View content where Author is Trung Nam Tran"> Trung Nam Tran</a>, <a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=2437728745970209521&postID=5650230600994529889" title="View content where Author is Roger Detels">Roger Detels</a> and Hoang Phuong Lan come to mind) so I don't think I'm doing anything groundbreaking but I find it an interesting yet depressing subject. These events have lingered in my mind for quite awhile so I'm just going to write about it.<br />
</span></div></div>My adventure started about last week when I was in Ho Chi Minh City (HCMC aka Saigon) and my cousins took me to a massage parlor . I have gotten massages before in Viet Nam, both in HCMC and recently in Hanoi but for some reason, this was quite an interesting week. The first of three massages started normally--I was lying on my stomach while the female masseuse did her thing on my back and legs, a combination of Thai, Swedish, and Acupressure techniques, while I am wondering how such a small woman is able to produce such massive amounts of force. After about 30 minutes of pain/pleasure (though my ego didn't allow me to show it), she (I don't know her name--Sorry!) flipped me over and started to work on the other side of my legs.<br />
<br />
Here is when it gets fishy. She started talking to me. Normally, my conversation with masseuses amount to "Hi," "No, that's not too hard," and "Thank you." I tend to let the massage and money exchange do the talking and save therapy/conversation for other situations. But this masseuse was pretty forceful in engaging conversation. Unfortunately, I talked to her a bit before we started in Vietnamese and had been responding to her instructions so there goes the "I have no idea what you are saying option." So, what's the harm I thought. <br />
<br />
M: So, how old are you?<br />
Tony: I'm 24. How old are you?<br />
M: 21. Where are you from?<br />
T: USA (USA! USA!) <br />
M: Have you been to Vietnam long?<br />
T: No, not that long, only 2 months.<br />
M: Oh, do you like it?<br />
T: Yeah, it's been nice.<br />
M: Where do you live?<br />
T: I live in Hanoi. I'm studying and going to school there.<br />
M: Oh wow. That's nice. Do you have any siblings?<br />
T: Yeah, an older and younger sister. You?<br />
M: Yeah, I have a younger sister. [I think...I may have messed up this detail with another person.] So, is your older sister married? Any babies?<br />
T: No, not yet. She's getting married in May. And no babies, not yet.<br />
<br />
Pretty innocent right? Just working it, trying to make is personal so I tip more. No shame in that. <br />
<br />
M: So do you have a girlfriend?<br />
<br />
Hmmm....this conversation might be taking a turn.<br />
<br />
T: Yes. I'm actually married. [Me trying to be proactive]<br />
M: Oh, how long?<br />
T: Two years.<br />
M: What nationality is she?<br />
T: American.<br />
M: Where is she right now?<br />
T: America.<br />
M: Oh you must miss her a lot.<br />
T: Yeah, I guess [HAH. Just joking EAG...]. Do you have a boyfriend?<br />
M: Yeah.<br />
T: What do you guys do for fun in Saigon?<br />
M: Oh, you know, go out, dance, you know, have a good time. If you're in Viet Nam, you should have a fun time right? Even if you're wife isn't here.<br />
<br />
T: Sure. [I was a bit unsure how to answer that--she said it awkwardly]<br />
M: Yeah, in Viet Nam you should have lots of fun..<br />
T: Yes....<br />
<br />
I think this should be about the time that I mention that she's massaging my inner thighs through most of this conversation (I'm wearing boxers in all of these situations) and, let's be honest, getting real close to "special" area. And me, being naive and hiền as hell (hiền - kind, gentle, meek with underlying currents of naive) just now realized she's been trying to get a rise out of me--literally. (I remember this moment very clearly because I thought "This bitch is trying to make me have an erection!" Ahem, excuse the language).<br />
<br />
Anyways, my body has now become a battlefield (Oh, my body is being exploited!). On one end, is my Me and my brain, and on the other end is tiny, Sexy Asian female in short skirt with really soft skin. Between us is land we are trying to conquer, also know as my "crotch." Whoever occupies this land has the high ground advantage in this battle. So for about 2 (probably shorter but it seemed like FOREVER) minutes of both of us staring at my nether regions, I am proud to say that I won (? I think some would say I lost). And I'm not saying this to sound like a holier-than-thou good guy who is ashamed of sex, but this situation was very uncomfortable for me: I don't even know this girl, I can barely see her face (no glasses), and like I told her, I'm "married" (really long-term relationship). Also, I began to think about everyone else here, how many handjobs are being done right now, and if my masseuse washed her hands. Call me weird but this is not exactly my preferred method for arousal. I even got cocky (pun?) at the end thinking to myself, "Yeah, you ain't getting nothing!" (How many guys are proud they didn't get an erection? I am SO hiền. I think my mom would get a laugh out of that. Yes, I have a slightly unique relationship with my mother.)<br />
<br />
<br />
After awhile when she realized she was getting rejected (no offense to her, she was very pretty--just not the right conditions) she finally asked me if I wanted my baby to be massaged. Again, me being naive, I asked her "What?" "Your baby!" "I don't have a baby...?" "No." She then pointed to my "baby" and I, of course, decline although slightly embarrassed. I was also confused because we were just talking about babies when she asked about my sister, so that's another turn-off. Incest is not high on my list....<br />
<br />
<br />
Afterward it was pretty awkward, I think for both of us--I doubt I was the first one to ever decline her but I think she was somewhat surprised and this had never happened to me before. We somewhat continued our converstation while she popped my scalp by pulling on my hair. Yes, painful and as a person who is slightly balding, a very scary moment. From this experience, I keep thinking about her comments about "having fun" in Viet Nam even if my "wife" isn't here--how many people do this? How many married men do this? I don't want to judge and it is not like I'm completely disgusted by it--I will admit I am a young, virile man who hasn't even seen his girlfriend in person for almost 3 months so I'm not going to act like a saint and say that little red devil didn't appear and whisper in my ear. But still, ultimately the decision was not that difficult...so hiền!<br />
<br />
<br />
I was invited again to go to another massage place and I wanted to decline but...I really do like the massages. Also, I was a bit curious and more "experienced" this time. My masseuse, number 12--because this job isn't degrading enough--was another small, cute, short-skirt wearing, soft skinned Vietnamese woman. And as expected, our converstation followed the same route, although this time I told her I wasn't married but did have an American girlfriend. However, Number 12 here was a bit more aggressive in her attempt to massage my baby. And when I mean more aggressive, I mean she didn't ask and just went for it. Here comes a "too much information" or TMI as the young kids call it these days, so watch out.<br />
<br />
The first time she grabbed "it" over the clothes, me being hiền again thought it was an accident. I wasn't a strong grab and maybe she just brushed it by accident. It happens. Second time, it was not an accident as it felt more premeditated (How I know this, I'm not sure but you weren't there were you? It was a "gut" feeling). So I told her straight up then that I did not want a baby massage. And of course she pulled the "What, you DO want your baby massaged?" technique and I responded with an exasperated "What? No!" that may have been paired with a slight grin because the way she said it was kind of funny--think stereotypical California Blond in Vietnamese.<br />
<br />
So the third time she grabbed it, I grabbed her hand so now both of us are holding on to my junk. I repeated my request of "No," and she a few cute "C'mon...," shifted to a cute pout, and then after five or six exchanges started mocking my "Noooooooo." She finally released her death grip and continued the massage, with a few, "Are you sure??" thrown in here and there, which where met with eye rolls and "Nooooo." <br />
<br />
However, even though this was much different than my first encounter, I decided to ask more questions about her and her job. I learned that she is 22 and has been working as a masseuse for two years. I then asked how often does that happen. She said I was her first (YEA every man's dream to be a woman's first) to turn her down and that everybody that comes here gets their baby massaged. I asked how much a tip usually is and she said it ranges from 200,000 (10 dollars) to up to 500,000 (25 dollars). I then asked her if she did anything else and she said sometimes she gets invited to spend the night with some men. She didn't go into much detail and I didn't press this issue. She also revealed that these massage places are very popular with Vietnamese, Korean, and Japanese business men.<br />
<br />
I then asked her if she liked her job and she replied, "Not really." She has a piggy bank that she puts all her tips to save up for cosmetic school and she hoped to do hair or nails in the future. I asked her if she had a boyfriend (This is a very common question in Nam) and she said no because it was very hard to get a boyfriend because everyone knew what masseuses do in Viet Nam. (In retelling this story to a fellow Fulbrighter, he said this massage session quickly turned into a therapy session).<br />
<br />
The converstation turned to me and she said it was very weird for a person with a significant other be so loyal when they are far apart. She said I was very cute and had a hiền face, which she then preceded to pinch my cheeks multiple times and repeat how hiền I am. Funny thing is I think she kind of liked me, which, I mean, is no surprise to me (have you seen me?). So if you want to seduce a Vietnamese masseuse, act really innocent and reject her. Though I do find it sad that I am one of the nicest people she has met on the job and loyalty is weird to her. I asked her what her name was and she gave me her middle name, <span style="color: #009999; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Thiền, which is the same as my little sister...</span><br />
<br />
As we said our good byes, I have her a 150,000 tip, which surprised her since that was very high for her, and I quote her, "having done nothing." I don't know if her piggy bank is real or she just suckered me with her story but I honestly hope the former is true. If not, she got my seven dollars.<br />
<br />
The last encounter happened in Hanoi and is perhaps the most weird. I decided to be married again but this time I let my masseuse fill in the other blanks. When she asked me what nationality I was, I told her I was Filipino but she didn't know what that was, so after guesses of Korean, Japanese, and Taiwanese, we settled on Singaporean. When asked what I did, I told her I was a teacher and for some reason, she asked me if I taught dance. Well, I do now. Which kind? After salsa and tango, hip-hop just sounded right. So today I was a married, Singaporean hip-hop dance instructor.<br />
<br />
Mỹ, my masseuse, is 20 and she has been working in the business for a couple of months. Originally, she is from the countryside and she is only working here to save up money to go to school. (I guess this is the Vietnamese version of "I was a stripper to pay for college"). Similar to Number 12, she has difficulty in finding a boyfriend and apparently Hanoi men tip much less, ranging from 100K to 400K. She actually gave the best massage out of the three. Her technique of asking the dreaded question was a quick tap on the package. After I said no, she took it stride and spent more time on my legs since I was a dance instructor (Yes, I felt bad for lying now.) <br />
<br />
I also thought she was the cheeriest one out of the bunch, but she was also the youngest and had the least work experience. I didn't ask about if she did other services as it didn't feel right so I'm not sure about her exact situation. Though, when I told her my "wife" was American, she got a little peeved--She told me I should stick with SE Asian women because they were smaller and cuter. Like No. 12, she was also surprised how loyal I was towards my wife--she also commented on my face being very cute and hiền and pinched my cheeks. Maybe I just have fat cheeks.<br />
<br />
She also kept asking me about if somebody told me what to do. I kept saying this was all my decision to turn down the "full experience" and she eventually credited it to my hiền-ness. We said our goodbyes and I wished her luck on getting her education. Again, a relatively big tip surprised her and I really do want her to be happy.<br />
<br />
Well, this post is really long so I'll just wrap it up now.<br />
<br />
tony<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Tonyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11124052758557171261noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2437728745970209521.post-66637846507081616462010-10-20T03:51:00.000-07:002010-10-20T08:52:17.558-07:00Food<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3R5t_yYgkBY7UX2BgX8JlOzz9BozHgZFVsBYACQSSlPHIEatuBMcypEtcfpUN0q2829YdMu-2Rbv4HLa-wFBryvd01KIAVajlvFwEvwkEYLgp6nmn0GHj9L6uaURW3yF58ENZGOwkAODL/s1600/DSCN0589.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3R5t_yYgkBY7UX2BgX8JlOzz9BozHgZFVsBYACQSSlPHIEatuBMcypEtcfpUN0q2829YdMu-2Rbv4HLa-wFBryvd01KIAVajlvFwEvwkEYLgp6nmn0GHj9L6uaURW3yF58ENZGOwkAODL/s320/DSCN0589.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiqQlQ-kq-mVeruOJ1KEPsBaZLVB9occp39Uqm8sL0lMeF1deFYBErn-7pMq10ZS-DDi6gJvInC-qZGt79uh0oMalRMxpmsltKjWqfOq2-1ZNu5NOxuOjxEWDbFm7AH0JF_9YwKNdSx3Wz/s320/DSCN0714.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They call it a "hamburger" (I'm not sure I'm spelling that right)</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiqQlQ-kq-mVeruOJ1KEPsBaZLVB9occp39Uqm8sL0lMeF1deFYBErn-7pMq10ZS-DDi6gJvInC-qZGt79uh0oMalRMxpmsltKjWqfOq2-1ZNu5NOxuOjxEWDbFm7AH0JF_9YwKNdSx3Wz/s1600/DSCN0714.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ_hTCSYG3-w-saUBrop0c95Y3li8qF5tjTfK9wMvHe4u7AJBkNXwHJjMbYeLStAn81LDMGXXK6aWQx4z23-nW5WkTsgaAuC0fDN-Y6DwEKxQ2n4v27aj1Y3EdMBquyDb-rnnF1zVFauJh/s320/DSCN0716.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fruits</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ_hTCSYG3-w-saUBrop0c95Y3li8qF5tjTfK9wMvHe4u7AJBkNXwHJjMbYeLStAn81LDMGXXK6aWQx4z23-nW5WkTsgaAuC0fDN-Y6DwEKxQ2n4v27aj1Y3EdMBquyDb-rnnF1zVFauJh/s1600/DSCN0716.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiveyB_fd5Vkj0OCOAO_vkcK2_WOZMqUYeBZ83iAsIgEv43EesQ3ixiby2xiZo-euj3VO5w9Pwlk-xawax8zBFkhZOqfr77p73_uVzXi0BGhHcPSVHbsIKvpCOG9PJ_lOR4UMJnsgjwdl-5/s1600/DSCN0906.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiveyB_fd5Vkj0OCOAO_vkcK2_WOZMqUYeBZ83iAsIgEv43EesQ3ixiby2xiZo-euj3VO5w9Pwlk-xawax8zBFkhZOqfr77p73_uVzXi0BGhHcPSVHbsIKvpCOG9PJ_lOR4UMJnsgjwdl-5/s320/DSCN0906.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<br />
A quick note about the food here--I apologize about not taking pictures of my culinary adventures but I already standout enough so I don't think taking pictures of my food will make things any better. Also, I think me taking pictures of the "exotic" street food is like a person in the States going to Taco Bell, taking pictures of her mexican pizza, and then using the photos as a source of cultural capital. Because noodles are somehow more photogenic here.<br />
<br />
The first couple of weeks here I was pretty adventurous, eating at random street joints and ordering things I really didn't know what they were, but everything was delicious and cheap. However, my digestive system and tongue are apparently two separate entities and I won't share too many details but I gots what Dave Chappelle calls the "mud butt." Not unexpected as I brought the jumbo-sized Pepto with me, but not a wonderful experience. Anyways, after that I settled down and started to eat with the family I live with, who while won't be scoring perfect scores on health inspection checks, is much cleaner than the streets (or so I thought...more on that later). Nowadays, when I do go out, I usually visit "Western"/Non-Vietnamese food places to hit some of my cravings (Hamburgers, fish and chips, philly cheesesteak, pizza, fish and chips, and Indian (which was quite good and cheap too)) which is somewhat weird as I am in Hanoi but whatever.<br />
<br />
Still, having someone buy and cook everything for you is terribly convenient--I read, watch movies, write, research, then come down to eat. Then back to work or go out. Done. I feel it has made me a bit sheltered as I'm not at the market haggling for a dollar off cabbage but I would rather do other stuff than, you know, worry about feeding myself. <br />
<br />
There are some negative aspects of this arrangement though. I find that many Vietnamese families believe a strong man is one who eats an outrageous amount of food. In fact, I think that's number 2 in my Dad's list for men who can date/marry my sisters-- A big appetite (number one is "not black"...Hah, I joke.........). So while I would have probably liked this when I was a bit younger when my metabolism was a bit quicker, right now I am struggling. <i>Minimum</i> serving at lunch and dinner: 2 bowls of rice, two servings of <i>each</i> meat dish (1/4 lbs per serving--there are normally two meats so four servings), two servings of vegetables, 1 bowl of soup (which has vegetables, broth, and another meat/fish), and 2 different types of fruits (generally a banana and 2 small servings of another fruit). And they still <strike>yelled at</strike> encouraged me to eat more. One of the customs in many Vietnamese houses is 1) the host should offer the guest as much food as possible and 2) the guest to show respect and eat a lot. Not good for tony's heart.<br />
<br />
At first, I was eating 3 meals (breakfast is much smaller but still heavy in my opinion--2 fruits, bread (a 6 inch french loaf), sometime eggs, meat, and stic<span style="font-size: small;">ky rice (Xôi (soy)) </span><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW60xWZkLsxQ7Qlws1jpA4__IqabdsygMNskAsKZEut0K2vUyENpjfEmHkjDbMPAHKa8Wrojpx4EPkRNT6b82F3JdOH95ZjN9Nkd7yZCCXCkD_ypgZPwZQChhlDhZo8hGiFFV4eiKP173_/s320/DSCN1082.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Usually </span><span style="font-size: x-small;">xôi comes wrapped in a banana leaf and then newspaper (sanitary I know) but this one came wrapped in this paper. </span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Xôi and seismic readings for only 5000 dong (25 cents) </span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW60xWZkLsxQ7Qlws1jpA4__IqabdsygMNskAsKZEut0K2vUyENpjfEmHkjDbMPAHKa8Wrojpx4EPkRNT6b82F3JdOH95ZjN9Nkd7yZCCXCkD_ypgZPwZQChhlDhZo8hGiFFV4eiKP173_/s1600/DSCN1082.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">but I physically couldn't do it. At the end of each meal I found myself moaning and I think quite possibly on the verge of death. There were many days where I honestly didn't do anything because I was falling into a food coma. So I started skipping breakfast (which I usually do/or just eat some fruit) which gives more room for lunch and dinner, but I think it makes them push harder since I didn't eat breakfast. You get what you can get I guess. I learned some tricks though. Before, I would just eat in a smooth and quiet manner, i.e. wait for everyone to get meat (it's served family style) and then sneak in and grab some. I found out that even though I was eating a lot, it wasn't registering as the family didn't notice I was eating. So now I make very exaggerated motions to say "Hey, I getting some meat!" (Hmm that doesn't sound right...). I also hold my bowl close to my face to hide the contents of my bowl--sometimes it is empty or has a small vegetable that I nibble on and this gives me a chance to "rest" before I shove my face full of food again. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">There was a point where I was like, "Okay, just say no." So one day I did when the wife tried to make me finish a bowl of soup (it was the serving bowl ~ 2.5 cups of liquid, veggies, etc.). She really egged me on, but I stood my ground. She then say, "Fine" and proceed to drink/eat the entire bowl in front of me in under a minute. Total emasculation. I remember this moment because I was thinking..."Oh Hell no." So the next day I picked up my game and took her out. Finished <i>everything</i>. No leftovers, no prisoners. Which is kinda of bad because now they know I'm capable of eating a lot and provide more pressure but at least I have my manhood. Oh, I'm that competitive. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">They also make fun of how I eat. I eat with my mouth closed, bite noodles clean instead of slurping, and usually don't talk with my mouth full since, well, it is like the first thing we learned in school. Viet Nam doesn't have that rule and they slurp, gnaw, and smack away while telling a story. One time they joked they should eat like tony and after about 20 seconds of silence, the wife decided, "well, maybe your mouth can open a little bit." This was said, of course, with her mouth full. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">On a different note, I discovered that I really, really <i>love</i> pork fat. Before, I wasn't anti-pork fat but it wasn't a large portion of my diet. Here, however, pork is king and everywhere there is the king, his delicious, seductive, yet obese mistress, pork fat, is always present. She (yes pork fat has a gender) is either rendered and coating vegetables, defeating the whole purpose of the veggie's nutrition, or in its pure, white, and smooth form that gives a bit of chewy resistance but effortlessly melts in your mouth. Contrasting this soft texture is the crisp skin that gives a nice crunch with a deep, almost burnt (but good), smokey pork flavor. Ugh, goes straight to my hips. It is the sole reason that I started jogging in the park.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">I also live down the street from a french bakery with croissants for 40 cents each. Huge, flaky croissants. Cheap, Delicious, and Convenient. Also known as Dangerous. I also been drinking lots of coffee with condensed milk because it is everywhere and cheap. I usually pick a general direction and walk and less than a minute there is a coffee shop. My favorite is by the Army Museum, quite popular with Communist soldiers, and has a random table with a picture of <a href="http://nuel92.files.wordpress.com/2009/02/20090119_snsdgeesales_6052.jpg">Girl's Generation.</a> Tea here is good but absurdly strong. Seriously, for a small pot they put a handful of tea leaves. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Oh one last note. A few days ago I decided to invite myself to go shopping with the live-in maid of the house at 6:30 am and well it was an interesting experience. First, she joked I would distract people because I was weird-looking. Hah. She was right. <i>Every </i>woman<i> </i>behind the counters asked about me: "Where are you from? Who are you with? Are you with her (the maid)?" I did get a lot of smiles...if only I were single, man, I would hitting up that market...to get discounts on fruit. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">We then went straight to the meat table (a literal table with meat) and she went STRAIGHT into the raw chicken. The butcher gave her a bag, which the butcher placed STRAIGHT on the raw meat. The maid then used her chicken hands to pack the bag. She then handed me the bag to hold, which of course I did (Mental note: wash hands! Don't touch your face!--of course my eye started itching). We went to the vegetable "section" and she and her raw chicken hands went STRAIGHT into everything. After that, we were going home when she grabbed my elbow and said to wait because she forgot to buy something (Mental note: wash elbow!).</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">I knew this probably happened all the time but it was better when I didn't know for sure (Oh, you're paranoid tony, they know better). They do have this anti-bacteria veggie/fruit washer thing and seem to cook everything thoroughly (even if they boil chicken to death twice, but that's a good thing looking back), but man...that's RAW chicken you're flinging around there. I may sound like an elitist here but I don't think many people understand concepts of basic biology or the idea of bacteria/viruses and how they are spread. Even many students/professors who are pursuing or have a college degree seem to ignore basic notions of sanitary living (granted most are in the film/humanities field, but still...). I see people on the street washing dishes with limes, which is better than nothing, but citrus acid only goes so far. Though, with bacteria evolving to become more resistant due to the use of anti-bacterial products, maybe they know better. Or not, it's raw chicken! </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Again no pics at the market because do Americans take pics at Wal-mart? Well, judging from facebook, yes they do but not of the produce.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">tony</span><br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3R5t_yYgkBY7UX2BgX8JlOzz9BozHgZFVsBYACQSSlPHIEatuBMcypEtcfpUN0q2829YdMu-2Rbv4HLa-wFBryvd01KIAVajlvFwEvwkEYLgp6nmn0GHj9L6uaURW3yF58ENZGOwkAODL/s1600/DSCN0589.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a>Tonyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11124052758557171261noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2437728745970209521.post-539170718725276192010-10-14T08:18:00.000-07:002010-10-15T08:53:58.751-07:00The Owl and the Sparrow<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.marshall.edu/muartser/shows/fall_film_festival/owl%20and%20the%20sparrow.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://www.marshall.edu/muartser/shows/fall_film_festival/owl%20and%20the%20sparrow.jpg" width="220" /></a></div>Panda Express and PF Chang's are two restaurants that come to mind when I think of authentic Asian cuisine, as in "authentic Asian food is NOT Panda Express or PF Chang's." The notion of authenticity, in this case, is useful as I can guide you away from "imitation" Chinese food (or just bad food in general) and hopefully towards greener rice pastures...err paddies. In a broader view, labeling something's authenticity or "realness" is a way many of us differentiate between cultures --this is authentic Vietnamese food, thus you are experiencing a different culture from X and getting a real foreign/"other" experience, not, in my case, "Americanized" food (assuming you are not Vietnamese). Authenticity a form of discourse that makes cultures distinctive from each other by defining them and promoting what is the rightfully "real" or wrongfully unauthentic. You could argue a positive for all of this is that it has stopped the complete collapse of global cultures into one homogeneous mass culture or that it provides a way to recognize other cultures. <br />
<br />
However, this concept severely limits our views on culture as it is a form of essentialism; when I say this is real Vietnamese food, there is an implication that the entire culture and nation of Viet Nam prepares and presumably enjoys the dish, which is obviously not true. Even Viet Nam's most famous dish, pho, is prepared and eaten in different ways depending on your location (spice blend, noodle size, condiments, herbs, etc.). As much as the Ministry of Culture would like, there is unfortunately no such thing as a single, homogeneous, and authentic Vietnamese (or any) culture. Ministries of Culture don't work because culture is a constantly shifting, multiplying, and hybridizing force--it is difficult to really control and confine to one definition. In Viet Nam's case, I don't think you can discuss Vietnamese culture without mentioning the various regions and ethnic groups within Viet Nam, nor could you without touching on influences from French, Chinese, and American culture (to name a few), who in turn, were influenced by others (British, Spanish, Christianity, etc.) and so on. I believe arguments about what is more authentically (insert culture) misses the point X's culture is a complex hybrid that varies with location and time and there are multiple ways to express one's culture. In theory, there is no "authentic" culture.<br />
<br />
The reason I am blabbering about this subject is because I have been sitting in some screenwriting classes at my University and the professor is pushing his students to create "authentic" Vietnamese films. This, according to him, means ignoring and opposing Hollywood and other Western influences and making a film that is uniquely Vietnamese. Generally, I disagree with him because of the reasons above; one of his examples of a strictly "Western" director is Quentin Tarantino, which, similar to my Viet Nam example, cannot be discussed without mentioning Asian Kung Fu and Blaxploitation films. (I think David Murphy in his discussion of African Cinema makes a good point that "if we follow this argument [of completely opposing Western Cinema] to its logical conclusion, then all [non-Western] films are 'inauthentic' or 'Western' simply because cinema was first invented in the West" (Murphy 28). I suppose we will also have to take the pleasure out of non-Western cinema too.).<br />
<br />
Yet, there is a part of me that doesn't blame him. I think his desire for real Vietnamese films is similar to many calls by flaming liberals in our elitist Universities to produce more "positive" or "real" representations of homosexuals, Asians, African Americans, Women, etc. in media, history, literature, and so on. On a personal level, I also don't want to see just Vietnamese imitations of Hollywood films, where viewers would think these films are a knockoff of HW pictures. I would like to be some kind of Vietnamese aesthetic in cinema and for this distinctive style to be recognized on a global level--"Oh, <i>that </i>is Vietnamese cinema." I think it was hard for me to completely reject the idea of authenticity because I am Vietnamese (I'm not exactly sure what percentage but it's there somewhere) and I believe we all have our opinions on how our culture (Hispanic, homosexual, women, whatever) should be presented and expressed.<br />
<br />
We were then shown the film <i>The Owl and the Sparrow </i>(2007) by director Stephane Gauger as an example of a "Western" Vietnamese film. It has been around for a couple of years but not many small films come to Texas (it is now available on Netflix). Gauger is an interesting fellow; his mother is Vietnamese and his father is American (either of French or German descendant--there are two conflicting sources) and he was born in Saigon, Viet Nam, but moved to California at the age of five. His education focused mainly on the technical area of film (lighting, camerawork) and he has worked with Tony and Timothy Bui (<i>Three Seasons</i>). <i> </i><br />
<br />
<i>The Owl and the Sparrow, </i>Gauger's first film, is about three strangers meeting in Ho Chi Minh City: a country-side young girl who has run away from her job in her uncle's window blind factory; a 2nd-generation (possibly even more) zoo keeper who's fiance recently left him; and a lonely and depressed female flight attendant due to the fact that she has no love prospects in sight. Throughout the whole film, I kept thinking, "This isn't Vietnamese..." There were some instances where I thought Gauger captured some essence of Viet Nam--the clutters of trash interspersed with the modernity of HCMC, the chaotic and noisy traffic, and the hand-held camera work gave the film a slightly gritty feel (though I think the 50,000 dollar budget had more to do with that). Nevertheless, I felt overall I was watching an American film: The story seemed to me like an universal (heterosexual) love story (I won't share the ending but I think you know where this is going) that could have occurred anywhere; stylistically it just felt like an American indie film with its hand-held camera work; and its ending, with musical score and all, produced a Hollywood feeling.<br />
<br />
The film for the most part avoids politics and Viet Nam's history, which is not exactly a bad thing since most Vietnamese films up until 2003 <i>only</i> dealt with those issues and those weren't exactly popular with a country full of young people who never experienced the war and turmoil like past generations. (Since the film was being filmed in Viet Nam, it did have to be approved but Gauger says he did not have to change anything from the original screenplay. However, this approval must have been in the back of his mind when constructing the script and in an interview he acknowledges that violence, politics, and sexual topics are "the t<span style="font-size: small;">hree no nos" (qtd in Stone).) Even the issue of poverty, which he does deal with the most--the young girl lives on the street and sells flowers while avoiding people who "capture" children for orphanages--is glossed over by the romantic storyline. </span><br />
<br />
But I think I got too wrapped in the professor's use of the words "authentic" and "real" and some of my desires/thoughts positioned HW/Western films as normative, making non-Western film abnormalities (Sigh...so hard). Instead of the idea of authentic vs. unauthentic, it is helpful to imagine film as an universal language with different accents and dialects, similar to James Potts or Hamid Naficy. In this sense, like language, everyone speaks with an accent; so while there will be a dominant language(s) (classical and new HW), we don't have to necessarily place it in the center. We shouldn't be expecting a completely different cinematic language from films around the globe, but, rather, we should focus on how these groups adapt film codes to their specific culture to produce an language that contains both domestic and foreign words. For better or worse, I think <i>The Owl and the Sparrow</i> is a low-budget Hollywood film with a Vietnamese accent. (Because of this, the fact that some people say it is an art film annoys me--speaking a different language and showing a foreign city does not make it an art film. I think some focus on the "exotic" aspects while ignoring the films plays out like a HW film.) <br />
<br />
<br />
I think a lesson I got out of this is that while we <i>should</i> avoid the "authentic" debate and aim towards exploring cinema and culture as multifaceted, complex, and perpetually fluctuating objects, as my reception of the film shows, the concept should still be considered because perceived and imagined ideas about authenticity are very powerful and still affect us, even if we try really hard to ignore it.<br />
<br />
On a personal note, although I have ragged on the film, I actually enjoyed it. Yes, it is not full of depth, somewhat sappy, and very, very predictable. But, after watching some of these films where everyone is poor and dying in wars, it was kind of a nice change. We academics don't always have to complain and pout all the time, do we? I enjoy cute and simple movies from time to time. Plus, I always find that after 3 months of not seeing EAG, I start pining more...<br />
<br />
tony<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Murphy, David. "Africans Filming Africa: Questioning Theories of An Authentic African Cinema." <i>Transnational Cinema: The Film Reader</i>. Eds. Elizabeth Ezra and Terry Rowden. New York: Routledge, 2006. 15-26.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.sf360.org/Articles/Reviews/?pageid=11819">Stone, Judy. "Stephane Gauger on 'Owl and the Sparrow.'" <i>SF360.org. </i>San Francisco Film Society, 9 Feb 2009. Web. 15 Oct 2010.</a>Tonyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11124052758557171261noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2437728745970209521.post-85952735355354565822010-10-12T22:26:00.000-07:002010-10-13T03:18:44.156-07:00Ratatouille 2: Journey to Viet Nam<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><b><img border="0" height="240" src="http://du-lich.chudu24.com/f/d/091107/rat-meat-a-taste-of-the-countryside.jpg" width="320" /></b></i></div><br />
Here is a suggestion to Pixar: make a sequel to Ratatouille and have the rat come to Viet Nam. The French have a long history in Viet Nam and made a very deep impact on the Viet Nam's culinary scene. The film could also deal with many "post-colonial" and political issues that I'm sure kids are waiting for to be addressed in a computer-animated form.<br />
<br />
What inspired this idea is that during lunch yesterday, a rat ran through the kitchen and climbed up onto the counter. My landlord, giving chase, tried to kill it but the rat went into the stove (one of these medium-sized portable gas stoves). He then tried to flush it out by turning on the stove tops--as much as I dislike rats, I did think that was kind of cruel but I bit my tongue; actually, living here you have to suspend any belief about animal cruelty--but Ratatouille was nowhere to be seen...He just wanted to cook! Anyways, they recommended I try rat as it is a specialty and better than chicken (the pic above is from the web) so I shall put that on the list. We then ate lunch in silence while staring at the stove. Maybe they should make one of those short films they show before some of their movies because I don't think Ratatouille will last long in Viet Nam.<br />
<br />
A Few other notes:<br />
<br />
Weasel coffee in Viet Nam is different from cà phê Chồn (Kopi luwak) : cà phê Chồn refers to coffee beans eaten and digested from the Civet, while what is called Weasel Coffee in Viet Nam is actually beans eaten by another animal and is just regurgitated, not fully passed through the digestive system. Weasel coffee is much cheaper and more available, although apparently you can get cà phê Chồn that is artificially made using the same enzymes in the Civet's digestive system. I may have to splurge but I am drinking this stuff!<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.wordhcmc.com/hanoi/component/content/1254?task=view">Also, another reason not to eat dog.</a><br />
<br />
A followup on the 1000 year Anniversary of Hanoi. I thought the Vietnamese Government did an outstanding job in planning and executing this celebration. I fully support the Vietnamese Government in this case.<br />
<br />
However, some very dumb people disagree with me. It was rumored that the Government spent around 40 million dollars for this celebration and, well, let's say some people didn't see where that 40 million dollars went. Overall, some people thought the celebration was boring and felt it was an older man's nostalgic view of what a "partay" should be. Traffic was horrible, construction was rushed in many areas, outdated stages and equipment were placed throughout the city, and the events were dull and dry (old trees and rocks can only go so far) and only focused on the more ancient "traditional" aspects of Hanoi, ignoring the current environment. People went to these events, but when they got there, they just walked around. There seemed to be no attempt to make Hanoi's anniversary a more global, or even national, event, nor was there any sign of looking forward, a missed opportunity to showcase Hanoi's plans for growth and evolution in the next 1000 years. I think many people liked celebrating their history, but perhaps it was difficult to relate to some of these traditions.<br />
<br />
There was also a very unfortunate accident when a firework setup exploded in Hanoi. This was censored by the government in the news (online, TV, print) so I won't tell you that it killed 4 people.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQMXtTHRDzbwv1r-p9nIESlWC6ZwhLrc6HSwoy413Y2bYFgdC3vUA2d8mBuK5RMJzyWJrmoRpFrrpMLLmlQrVb2Xp_5SgfAruBACrwxCFGXbAvfHOzkwZeQ3WVfXtAKVIv5zs6GxT1WcyR/s640/DSCN1054.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="640" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">fun...</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQMXtTHRDzbwv1r-p9nIESlWC6ZwhLrc6HSwoy413Y2bYFgdC3vUA2d8mBuK5RMJzyWJrmoRpFrrpMLLmlQrVb2Xp_5SgfAruBACrwxCFGXbAvfHOzkwZeQ3WVfXtAKVIv5zs6GxT1WcyR/s1600/DSCN1054.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi53iFwwlSscp_cpLaxxringf8zYqg76HuHYAEFM1FaXfpOrhaxX1McNgYp76uOpVsz-5dqy0_btkwldAGPcGypJPI0uC1Gm5FUEDQipy2wfgPD-xj0YYTwytHX1rQQFA3P_1xlJWF8KsC-/s1600/DSCN1024.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi53iFwwlSscp_cpLaxxringf8zYqg76HuHYAEFM1FaXfpOrhaxX1McNgYp76uOpVsz-5dqy0_btkwldAGPcGypJPI0uC1Gm5FUEDQipy2wfgPD-xj0YYTwytHX1rQQFA3P_1xlJWF8KsC-/s320/DSCN1024.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisa7m8gdGyNIfrREe85NFuD2ximqDtcSDUaBTlFDH1tm7pcL4aixzYHt_dYJyCwRfcOVq-UCkre_XGWmJhDAQMqUQeFVYvbtUEW4BowWPX91xkOHxy9r_KFs1QaX5JnA4Fn49RXtFfiMyc/s1600/DSCN1061.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisa7m8gdGyNIfrREe85NFuD2ximqDtcSDUaBTlFDH1tm7pcL4aixzYHt_dYJyCwRfcOVq-UCkre_XGWmJhDAQMqUQeFVYvbtUEW4BowWPX91xkOHxy9r_KFs1QaX5JnA4Fn49RXtFfiMyc/s320/DSCN1061.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2rr9xuIZl4aUrK7TBsDEfjsPKV3l6A4PGHXqYrokLKeU2imLrwVKNlPV_bQUT1DMviILFnGJzh7mJMOjqH2uWW-OPEDQf52TnU39AqlQUIsoHi4ZwxVRNxzQoJq5NhTMNjDuc8B7eipx9/s1600/DSCN0995.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2rr9xuIZl4aUrK7TBsDEfjsPKV3l6A4PGHXqYrokLKeU2imLrwVKNlPV_bQUT1DMviILFnGJzh7mJMOjqH2uWW-OPEDQf52TnU39AqlQUIsoHi4ZwxVRNxzQoJq5NhTMNjDuc8B7eipx9/s320/DSCN0995.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFKTzZKAJaJZs80HV6KWNSJvDh3hmShQ3LyFKEfWdJqP6ceZ-49YKcFRy5Swx6ZwIl1MqZfnCmpyRpn9glutY1ju4lLmIBEwm5dZ97L0qu7rDBBx6KpRFOEJj99W5eCdKyjylp1HJNPm-i/s400/DSCN0997.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I am impressed by their flower arrangement skills.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFKTzZKAJaJZs80HV6KWNSJvDh3hmShQ3LyFKEfWdJqP6ceZ-49YKcFRy5Swx6ZwIl1MqZfnCmpyRpn9glutY1ju4lLmIBEwm5dZ97L0qu7rDBBx6KpRFOEJj99W5eCdKyjylp1HJNPm-i/s1600/DSCN0997.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXB9QYSweurhuDhLYuxQ7m0-5C9nOiZqcZOKbdhnWdB15DuFlIP7Ai_9J2T17M0yvZ-SYYbWcKfV9zRLyOsjvaWWgrlf4OL78rlbfyKgn679XbuiKw8xx2LF6YrI31rgCexl489ze-rmGh/s1600/DSCN1016.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXB9QYSweurhuDhLYuxQ7m0-5C9nOiZqcZOKbdhnWdB15DuFlIP7Ai_9J2T17M0yvZ-SYYbWcKfV9zRLyOsjvaWWgrlf4OL78rlbfyKgn679XbuiKw8xx2LF6YrI31rgCexl489ze-rmGh/s320/DSCN1016.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib3XvwFyvBV5br43yeuvWkx_0FEmEEgUasQ2WtiRPWUTahs1ToqvRcq2WtAr_XLcco-P1AEj9lFiN7wx8Z4bimswm2rXvQDIc5v9zhthHF3fK9CK9dSXPZPQ3uNV7zlbhySR7gZZgU7bPr/s1600/DSCN1027.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib3XvwFyvBV5br43yeuvWkx_0FEmEEgUasQ2WtiRPWUTahs1ToqvRcq2WtAr_XLcco-P1AEj9lFiN7wx8Z4bimswm2rXvQDIc5v9zhthHF3fK9CK9dSXPZPQ3uNV7zlbhySR7gZZgU7bPr/s320/DSCN1027.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNzGZ8BG3Lf5dvQDMx4ERmIEjZOKajx8h9X5O8l8YPs-05l3TTB2ZOhKJGz9ZktSbenHJ9TW8NOyve5T9vXry3pRpQCTKPlQ7RaOAO8m7PW7rId6KN_blAZi9GZ826HWydCw4E9b8mOjrz/s1600/DSCN1043.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNzGZ8BG3Lf5dvQDMx4ERmIEjZOKajx8h9X5O8l8YPs-05l3TTB2ZOhKJGz9ZktSbenHJ9TW8NOyve5T9vXry3pRpQCTKPlQ7RaOAO8m7PW7rId6KN_blAZi9GZ826HWydCw4E9b8mOjrz/s320/DSCN1043.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrW0nRQsLUdn5TjuC0GIeQFqjy70R2Xv9gnWzE0HIR2V1XAay5lm-NGyigz_M3Tehw9L4N4IczpvHHhQSP-u7Tw0bxrZtSGeVrjz1zChCO7a9PSBJ6Zp7Or4adApUje7sQfsvYtFv4g4dr/s1600/DSCN0984.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrW0nRQsLUdn5TjuC0GIeQFqjy70R2Xv9gnWzE0HIR2V1XAay5lm-NGyigz_M3Tehw9L4N4IczpvHHhQSP-u7Tw0bxrZtSGeVrjz1zChCO7a9PSBJ6Zp7Or4adApUje7sQfsvYtFv4g4dr/s320/DSCN0984.JPG" width="320" /> </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKmOd2TsuUv728akVoZP6-xOJ0b0uLLCnOgpJGStr2_L7NUz3cyXSQ5S8mGfimRSaFVgVfJ8Up2MEwu1bfZ9nL1BDM7tytD8-fwffaTn5gTihAMIMNfLZw7mWxxX6cbblF7EC0d10UfMy7/s1600/DSCN0976.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKmOd2TsuUv728akVoZP6-xOJ0b0uLLCnOgpJGStr2_L7NUz3cyXSQ5S8mGfimRSaFVgVfJ8Up2MEwu1bfZ9nL1BDM7tytD8-fwffaTn5gTihAMIMNfLZw7mWxxX6cbblF7EC0d10UfMy7/s320/DSCN0976.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheS92CSZNfunQ99gKwJFTRaQiEcaDdzPC9nVa1AnVioV1mDqUnSr4yPq54bWIXySNW2UyaLXOhMISysWqOGS6Cf8AhiEEinkZ0AqhQDeq9Wb1FdOvY3Whgq1NN_GzviDW90vUIZFf9u18J/s400/DSCN0986.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="300" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And this is the traditional <span lang="vi">áo dài, a national reminder of our history, culture, and...hold on, I got a text. I actually love this picture. </span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheS92CSZNfunQ99gKwJFTRaQiEcaDdzPC9nVa1AnVioV1mDqUnSr4yPq54bWIXySNW2UyaLXOhMISysWqOGS6Cf8AhiEEinkZ0AqhQDeq9Wb1FdOvY3Whgq1NN_GzviDW90vUIZFf9u18J/s1600/DSCN0986.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><br />
<br />
tonyTonyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11124052758557171261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2437728745970209521.post-65618110447089386412010-10-04T04:14:00.001-07:002010-10-14T04:39:59.085-07:00My Quest for Films<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://silverdart.files.wordpress.com/2010/05/doogie_howser_showcard.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://silverdart.files.wordpress.com/2010/05/doogie_howser_showcard.jpg" width="287" /></a></div><br />
<br />
So I am still on the trail digging up these, let's say "low-demand," government films, and it is somewhat frustrating to see Dougie Howser's face at 80 percent of these DVD stores (Really, who is bringing these into the country) while I am on store 7 looking for one film. In theory, the film archives of Vietnam should have the film. However, there is a steep charge to watch them (4 subway foot longs per hour - on a Steenbeck, no less...) which I think is a bit expensive, so I am trying to gather as many films as I can and using the archives as my last resort.<br />
<br />
Now, some of the stores I visit sell pirated copies of HW films, and when I say some, I really mean all. But since I am being funded by the Fulbright Program and State Department, I would never use the money provided to me for anything illegal and I am, like totally, disgusted by this.<br />
<br />
But <span style="font-size: large;"><i><b>IF</b></i></span> I did buy something, it would totally be Mad Men (Seasons 1-3) for 7 dollars because I heard it was a really good show. And I heard it was a really good quality version. Dexter Season 4 for three dollars would probably be a good choice too. Battlestar Galactica would be great too. And they have a huge Bollywood section. But IF I did this, I probably wouldn't spend too much since I most likely cannot take them home (they may get through security but is a 1 dollar disc copy of Machete worth it?) so I would probably give them away to my students.<br />
<br />
On another note, I understand better Lawrence Lessig's proposition that media companies (TV in this case) should provide more "free" versions. Hulu and NBC don't provide licenses to broadcast here in Vietnam...but guess what? I can walk down the street and buy a show for 2 dollars - money you don't get which could have come from ads and commercials on websites/during the show. In Hanoi, even if I wanted to, it is really difficult to find a legit copy of films and TV shows so the market here is almost non-existent--they're not gaining money here anyways. Allow the shows to stream here and raise your viewership/website numbers. Also, I'm mad because I can't watch The Office. I guess I'll just wait for the bootleg dvd...if I did buy bootlegs which I don't.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://college.monster.com/nfs/college/attachment_images/0002/0314/mad-men.jpg?1258579214" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="264" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Women want him. Men want to be him. So buy me.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://college.monster.com/nfs/college/attachment_images/0002/0314/mad-men.jpg?1258579214" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div>Tonyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11124052758557171261noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2437728745970209521.post-74239745415493675792010-10-04T01:07:00.000-07:002010-10-09T07:01:01.437-07:001000 Year Celebration<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR9ISIU9NHEegi3iQmTd_PBMZamBRQ8BKnkLOw71nXrmVFLjQEo8ooe-7erb_qRRCEwA5MNbh1cam0lbGKGludvxN8YZqpx-1xdTP18RXyb0bMyjDFJ4XcoRqFRHPQZoTf8NfQmqj6bidJ/s1600/DSCN0958.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR9ISIU9NHEegi3iQmTd_PBMZamBRQ8BKnkLOw71nXrmVFLjQEo8ooe-7erb_qRRCEwA5MNbh1cam0lbGKGludvxN8YZqpx-1xdTP18RXyb0bMyjDFJ4XcoRqFRHPQZoTf8NfQmqj6bidJ/s320/DSCN0958.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">So before I typed this blog, I was ironing clothes while listening to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/BoA">BoA</a> and Katy Perry on <a href="http://listen.grooveshark.com/#/popular">Grooveshark</a> (yes I would hand over my "man" card but I gave that away a long time ago) and paused to look outside my windows. While it is cloudy, Hanoi weather has finally cooled off a bit allowing to open my windows and sit on my balcony to type or, in this case, iron my clothes. I then had one of these holy moly "how the heck did I get here?" moments that occasionally hits me (G version). I don't usually get emotional about my life--I'm more of a "whatever, no biggie, laid-back" person--but living in Hanoi has created some moments where I'm actually proud of myself and amazed that I am actually doing this...like ironing to Katy Perry in Hanoi, something I never thought I would ever do.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Anyways...in the first two weeks of October, Hanoi is celebrating the 1,000th anniversary of Thang Long-Hanoi, so adding to my experience is the fact that I am living in a city that is turning 1000. While exciting as this event is and my luck that I am present during such a time, it has been both wonderful and horrible. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Bad first: it is kind of crowded. And when I say crowded, I mean packed. My friend and I tried to go eat at a place down the street from where I live. Normally, 5 minutes walking time. We got a quarter of the way there after 20 minutes, because once the street gets jammed, all of the motorbikes go onto the sidewalk. So from building wall to building wall on the street were motorbikes. We saw what was ahead and with heavy exhaust fumes in our lungs, said "oh, tuck this" (rather I said that, she said it Viet). It took about 25 minutes to walk back, which was much harder to do since we were going against traffic and led to a couple of scratches on our legs from being scraped by shoes, metal parts, etc., and we ate somewhere else.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">However, the city is really beautiful during this time and the government has really spruced the place up--think Christmas but more humid. Here are some pics during a more calmer but still above-average busy time:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRtuoWKn58T3OCuO4_yV2sLCAyok6lOdHoRWrNZP8ZAZW-avfpLoYhYwoG-ri6aVZ_R-uydyNHyeHhET1bqBZ9yKY-kBKILnJlZeO59VbXCc9grA9dK0Yey-vnppxcSQbOTdovAzwVOa8W/s1600/DSCN0959.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeZq0SpDUawpRYPmP178xnIrIpPWtfpqqLCS5MKW_aCtzKFbIfmlylr64FuIU5B0umuCvNGqoSM6AH7cDS9qMByN3VutZmt_vZFcJnUPgGYYVmUfgrrQuMQCxoK-q2yS14o5U23uU4L_Il/s1600/DSCN0956.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeZq0SpDUawpRYPmP178xnIrIpPWtfpqqLCS5MKW_aCtzKFbIfmlylr64FuIU5B0umuCvNGqoSM6AH7cDS9qMByN3VutZmt_vZFcJnUPgGYYVmUfgrrQuMQCxoK-q2yS14o5U23uU4L_Il/s320/DSCN0956.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRtuoWKn58T3OCuO4_yV2sLCAyok6lOdHoRWrNZP8ZAZW-avfpLoYhYwoG-ri6aVZ_R-uydyNHyeHhET1bqBZ9yKY-kBKILnJlZeO59VbXCc9grA9dK0Yey-vnppxcSQbOTdovAzwVOa8W/s1600/DSCN0959.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRtuoWKn58T3OCuO4_yV2sLCAyok6lOdHoRWrNZP8ZAZW-avfpLoYhYwoG-ri6aVZ_R-uydyNHyeHhET1bqBZ9yKY-kBKILnJlZeO59VbXCc9grA9dK0Yey-vnppxcSQbOTdovAzwVOa8W/s320/DSCN0959.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDQhAzZhcJzkn57jBvSfk1CYuqhnAByG1M-JDeyceWdRg4sMFgC7gI8nlTq86Octt1wK1TWrh5SjiywdbC4R3YpwBmAtvbYHzF_-BJGr7jeMrS__6B0VUTw4juUYKvVRtL7qf3NCbrJIHb/s1600/DSCN0964.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDQhAzZhcJzkn57jBvSfk1CYuqhnAByG1M-JDeyceWdRg4sMFgC7gI8nlTq86Octt1wK1TWrh5SjiywdbC4R3YpwBmAtvbYHzF_-BJGr7jeMrS__6B0VUTw4juUYKvVRtL7qf3NCbrJIHb/s1600/DSCN0964.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkXeCWt9CRLFBQawv55-pTQSPEdqLPObgpfEu2UvDlIeWyx9Q4d5r0Qh0ZHuo2CI9YamqQmPYC3w6XgBsTj_IwsF3f7vfDBvO277B2udjjBdYLFH7QdS-vQzDd4FMfeVxQhxyk-rcXqM38/s320/DSCN0961.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Doves for peace....(Right next to the Army Museum)</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkXeCWt9CRLFBQawv55-pTQSPEdqLPObgpfEu2UvDlIeWyx9Q4d5r0Qh0ZHuo2CI9YamqQmPYC3w6XgBsTj_IwsF3f7vfDBvO277B2udjjBdYLFH7QdS-vQzDd4FMfeVxQhxyk-rcXqM38/s1600/DSCN0961.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2W169A0Jy6WGLnQhyphenhyphenQgA4p9LLkTjV2t-3ks7Sjonsf1G_hKstS-Wafhv4p0HyGuby3txCB700d2v6Ln5bLGAqRBebMeBT2VkA4eBZPU4qjFzcOSrJxyGsGVNOAwXawMF0GrA_3TnBK8UJ/s1600/DSCN0962.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2W169A0Jy6WGLnQhyphenhyphenQgA4p9LLkTjV2t-3ks7Sjonsf1G_hKstS-Wafhv4p0HyGuby3txCB700d2v6Ln5bLGAqRBebMeBT2VkA4eBZPU4qjFzcOSrJxyGsGVNOAwXawMF0GrA_3TnBK8UJ/s320/DSCN0962.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHq04EVOFh9YU4GJfxTwR7GpS1z9NAm7w6mrt1sRsKzQojJBVY6LAAOujnWnFFEaNwUmIeRgD8PtLXNmkF15nVKA0BNxToI5rBboS8mjSjlQu_zOhX57A6CgnI9xyRnl7KziKr9yBK04oj/s1600/DSCN0968.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHq04EVOFh9YU4GJfxTwR7GpS1z9NAm7w6mrt1sRsKzQojJBVY6LAAOujnWnFFEaNwUmIeRgD8PtLXNmkF15nVKA0BNxToI5rBboS8mjSjlQu_zOhX57A6CgnI9xyRnl7KziKr9yBK04oj/s320/DSCN0968.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi84AbuqA7kYkwc_SqqErdPUuKRFlIdTln7idyXcklbLJwPlTiKubJ15zXikkt_0lRx0BI-FQkkuOQz1MXNpsD07jG-QJnmRmom7l0BZuOBFhYOzSDlMdFkz7cX10jcsggJp_HmFSE0kt97/s1600/DSCN0973.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi84AbuqA7kYkwc_SqqErdPUuKRFlIdTln7idyXcklbLJwPlTiKubJ15zXikkt_0lRx0BI-FQkkuOQz1MXNpsD07jG-QJnmRmom7l0BZuOBFhYOzSDlMdFkz7cX10jcsggJp_HmFSE0kt97/s320/DSCN0973.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> I will admit it has distracted me from my studies...but what's the point of flying around the world and just studying? You have to experience the culture right? 1000 years doesn't come around that often...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">tony </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div>Tonyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11124052758557171261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2437728745970209521.post-15301094332775729862010-10-01T02:46:00.000-07:002010-10-09T07:02:10.764-07:00Randon StuffI should probably blog more often so I am more coherent instead of just bottling up events and then trying to remember them after almost two weeks and end up with a huge post but here goes. Another list:<br />
<br />
1. Dill is surprisingly, at least to me, a very popular herb here in Hanoi.<i> </i><span lang="vi">Funny story: Thì là, the name for dill, </span><span lang="vi">is </span><span lang="vi">supposedly derived from the Vietnamese phrase </span>đây là, which means "that is." As my landlord told me, when asked by someone (most likely French) what that herb was, the Vietnamese people would say "that is..." but dill did not have an official name so people would stop talking and try to think of a name. The French, however, assumed this was the name of the plant and everyone just ran with it. Hence đây là shifted to the similar sounding <span lang="vi">thì là. I know, I just made your mind explode with knowledge.</span><br />
<span lang="vi"><br />
</span><br />
<span lang="vi">2. Living in Viet Nam has made me really cheap -- apparently even more than I already was according to somebody who got new shoes and an ipod from me (EAG!! >O). A meal on the street cost about 15000 to 25000 (80 cents to 1.20 dollars) and this is a hearty meal, not obese Chili's servings but still a pretty decent meal. Even some of the nicer restaurants (you know, the one with actual chairs and an indoor dining room section) offer meals for 30 to 40K (2.00 dollars ish). So after a month of so of these prices, going to a more "western" restaurant is like a mini culture shock: 70,000 for a sandwich!? I mean, it is only $3.50 and I have no problem dropping 10 bucks (~198,000K dong) a plate back home, but still...70,000?!? That just sounds so much worse.</span><br />
<br />
<span lang="vi">3. You don't have to speak Vietnamese to live here. I read an article the other day that talked about how in Thailand, you HAVE to speak Thai since people just assume (white, black, etc) that you do. Here, if you look different, they speak English, which kind of annoys me since I want to practice speaking Vietnamese (I still response in Vietnamese but still...) As my previous post mentioned, I'm really dark compared to others here, I'm about a foot taller than the average Hanoian (it has been weird to stand in a room and be literally shoulders above everyone else - I'm "only" 5'9''), and everyone thinks I'm mixed with something - though I do like the surprise that people show when I talk or at least show I understand them...However, I found you can coast through Hanoi with much speaking ability. I'm not sure exactly why or how this happens, but I'll figure it out. </span><br />
<span lang="vi"><br />
</span><br />
<span lang="vi">4. It's weird that I'm not recognized by Vietnamese people as Vietnamese or even Vietnamese American, but also tourists and foreigners don't recognize me as American. A couple from America asked me in very bad Vietnamese (even worst than mine!) what street they were on and I could not figure out what they were saying (Yeah I could have said earlier I spoke English but I wanted to laugh at them for a COUPLE of seconds) so in my "American" voice I asked them what they were asking and they seemed very surprised I spoke English. Oh, woe is me, where do I fit in?? And I have father issues! I should write a book.</span><br />
<span lang="vi"><br />
</span><br />
<span lang="vi">5. Papaya is a very sexy word - apparently, also very difficult for Vietnamese people to say and I find that it impresses the ladies on your pronunciation and tongue skills. </span><br />
<span lang="vi"><br />
</span><br />
<span lang="vi">6. Coffee is really cheap here and I drink too much of it. I am trying to find weasel coffee - </span>cà phê Chồn. It is the coffee where the Asian Palm Civet eats the beans and then poops it out, giving it an "unique" flavor due to the enzyme reactions during the digestive process. I drove by a cafe named Cafe Number Two and I wondered if that was their specialty, or if they were just the number two store in their chain. Yes, I made a poop joke and it is a real cafe.<br />
<span lang="vi"><br />
</span><br />
<span lang="vi">7. I can't manage to eat dog or cat. Before, I believed if you weren't a vegetarian or vegan, you couldn't argue against dog or cat meat because you consume cows, fish, chicken, turkey, and a million other types of animals (whatever is in a hot dog, which man, I could go for a hot dog right now) so why is it any different? I just think of my dog and can't do it. Also, watching many kitten videos on youtube has made unable to eat cat.</span><br />
<span lang="vi"><br />
</span><br />
<span lang="vi">8. I do have more but this will be the last point for today: From what I have heard, Obama is very well respected here...George W. Bush...not so much. Of course this makes sense since Bush stands for FREEDOM while Obama is very well loved by a socialist country. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zrzMhU_4m-g">Hence, from my Fulbright Level knowledge, I conclude that Obama is a Muslim</a>.</span><br />
<span lang="vi"><br />
</span><br />
<span lang="vi">tony</span><br />
<br />
<span lang="vi"></span><span lang="vi"> </span>Tonyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11124052758557171261noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2437728745970209521.post-3862644224581772132010-09-16T03:42:00.000-07:002010-09-16T04:10:52.776-07:00Things I have Learned in Vietnam1. Nhung was right. You do get used to the honking. Now only really loud horns bother me (namely cars) but other than that, I just recognize somebody is there and don't get hit. Easy as that. Today I saw a comic with two people pushing shopping carts in a grocery store saying beep, beep, beep and I laughed. Vietnamese humor.<br />
<br />
2. I am wayyy to dark. Having dark skin is a sign of lower class in many Asian countries (You mean you actually go outside to do work and not hire someone else to do it? You walk instead of taking a Lexus? Hah, you're poor!) and even men around here sometimes walk around with an umbrella to avoid getting a tan (or avoid skin cancer...maybe they are just health conscious over here). I don't care (because I'm American and I'm Richer than all of ya'll - actually not really...see number 3) and tend to walk around a lot, getting even darker than normal and because of this, a lot of people don't think I'm Vietnamese; I have heard Cambodian, Chinese, Laotian, and Filipino - I know, how insulting as I am clearly above those! Then, when people ask me what I am and I tell them Vietnamese, they generally ask if my mom or dad is Vietnamese. Now, I didn't piece this together until recently but they think I'm mixed with something. So what should I be mixed with?<br />
<br />
3. Contrary to the Communist Manifesto, there are a LOT of wealthy people here. Like Porsche and Bentley and (Real) Louis Vuitton. I went into a Nike store a couple of weeks ago and Nike Free are 120 US dollars, about 35 dollars more than the US. I always wondered how stores stay afloat but I guess someone is buying these shoes and purses.<br />
<br />
4. Vietnamese people are...how to say this nicely...rude. Like I said in my car rant, you just don't take anything personal, it is just a different world but it does come off as rude in my opinion. You throw trash on the ground. Many restaurants just toss dirty water on the street, even if you are walking there. They are more blunt and forceful. A parking attendant was trying to grab people while they were driving motorbikes, trying to physically pull them in. There are no lines, you just go to the front and yell as loud as you can (Fox News Technique). My taxi driver almost hit a pedestrian - it would have taken literately 3 seconds to brake and let him pass but the taxi driver <i>accelerated. </i>It is just how they live. Back in the States, I would know an Asian restaurant had good potential (more "authentic" you could say) if the service is horrible because that was an indicator they had people from Asia (unlike "good service" but nasty food PF Changs - Yeah I said it). But here, it is much more to handle because it is everywhere. (I'm also a bit of hypocrite - Once I was semi-late for a show and this taxi driver got us there early because he was being a major ahole on the road but that doesn't count because I was in the car. Umm...ever heard of Fulbright? Yeah.)<br />
<br />
5. That being said, Vietnamese people in the North are extremely nice. What do you mean? Unlike what people have told me (cough* mom and dad!! *cough), "North" people have been very helpful and generally don't try to rip me off or other foreigners, as far as I have seen. I have brought food at the market for fair prices even though many of them know I'm not a local (too dark, heavily accented Vietnamese). I can hear the prices they give to locals and it has always been the same. When I have asked people for help (buying helmets, help translating, directions, etc.) I never had have a problem. It is like totally opposite from their driving - when something is personal, they really try hard to help out. Yes, not all people are angels and there are douchbags but those exist everywhere. <br />
<br />
6. Lastly, I have improper chopstick technique. I have never used chopsticks for this long consecutively and my finger joints hurt so I am doing something wrong. It seems I have gotten away with it in America just on pure, natural chopstick skills but not I can't rely on that solely. <br />
<br />
One pic, sorry for too much reading. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUDe3Kb2FXz5BtpPyUkrdGxbHa5UP_C7gwuGCisw3Y5rPUUiXverv6eg_25lvwR4zqi-80YC_HUqROeb8vw5ii0yPiy6_aS-KctnvZSbUaAVPqtB9RagGj9F86eEzYLotxBACrJGLYRFNu/s320/DSCN0891.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In the Army Museum - the "Puppet" Flag of Vietnam - Their words not mine so don't get all fussy.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUDe3Kb2FXz5BtpPyUkrdGxbHa5UP_C7gwuGCisw3Y5rPUUiXverv6eg_25lvwR4zqi-80YC_HUqROeb8vw5ii0yPiy6_aS-KctnvZSbUaAVPqtB9RagGj9F86eEzYLotxBACrJGLYRFNu/s1600/DSCN0891.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><br />
<br />
tonyTonyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11124052758557171261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2437728745970209521.post-15802362559588804472010-09-16T02:57:00.000-07:002010-09-16T02:57:41.317-07:00Film StuffI guess since I'm here doing a film studies project, I should talk about film. When people ask me why the hell I am here, I tell them about my project and here is what I have heard about Vietnamese films: boring, amateur, too long, not great, not exciting like Avatar, not progressive, and so on. I should note that these are mostly young people (under 22). So as you can see, Vietnamese cinema is not doing so well in their own country, especially with youth.<br />
<br />
Nevertheless, I proceeded to find some of these films to actually see them. Marking my mental map, I plot a path to 5 dvd stores/"professional" rip and burn DVD to see what films I can find. First store was Fox Movies, a very highly rated store by <a href="http://newhanoian.xemzi.com/">http://newhanoian.xemzi.com/</a>, a popular expat review website. "Sorry, we don't have any Vietnamese films." Hmmm....not a good start but it makes good business sense. If locals dislike these films, why would expats want them? Okay, so I proceed to the next stop, Hollywood DVDs. I was having doubts that a store named "Hollywood" would carry Vietnamese films but it was a much bigger store than Fox. So I go up to the counter and ask if they have any films and show them a list. They stared at me strangely and after a mini-conference (Do we? was passed around), they gave a very weak "yes." So we went up the stairs to the second level and in a small box on the ground was their Vietnamese collection (every wall was covered with burned copies of the latest films). Out of my list of 10 movies, they found 2 but that is better than nothing. Strange thing is that they had the entire collection of Doogie Howser MD for 465 K (24 dollar-ish), five copies of WWE Wresting, Lost season 5 but only 2 of my films. Hmmm.<br />
<br />
After that, I decided one more place would be good enough. I visited Victory CD and they were really nice. I gave them my list and they found 3 more movies PLUS called another store and had someone run it over - Good service in Vietnam!?!? All in all, I got 8 movies (I brought some older ones just to watch) for 120 K (6 dollars). Just FYI, Hollywood movies are about 30 K each if you want to watch Date Night or Hannah Montana. Yes no pictures.Tonyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11124052758557171261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2437728745970209521.post-26261653450699215722010-09-16T02:33:00.000-07:002010-09-16T02:34:24.657-07:00Army Museum<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyt-C1N1hb1dPdIvnE3hZbUXvcS5nUJhF4y_I8lqeYwrPZIVCPPFtAj-LJ2PxxjcKRek7M_ku9xiKK6XW0sZlSixgbqGIGW245Ji81Xt8-YTHkUcBk2_X2yqNGBTiGuDVmdBYDd9NQvnim/s1600/DSCN0829.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyt-C1N1hb1dPdIvnE3hZbUXvcS5nUJhF4y_I8lqeYwrPZIVCPPFtAj-LJ2PxxjcKRek7M_ku9xiKK6XW0sZlSixgbqGIGW245Ji81Xt8-YTHkUcBk2_X2yqNGBTiGuDVmdBYDd9NQvnim/s320/DSCN0829.JPG" /></a></div>These pictures are about 2 weeks old but let's ignore that fact and just pretend I'm not doing this late in a cafe that is playing Taylor Swift. So here is the aftermath of my mosquito attack. One leg had about 65 and the other had about 50 or so. Luckily, these aren't Texas mosquitoes as these bites were very tiny red spots that itched very little compared to the ones I get in Texas. However, since <i>I did have 122 of them</i>, they did have a collective effect and produced a very mild, yet annoying itch. Still, it lasted only about 2 days and I either wrapped my legs with a wet, frozen towel or used itching creme like body lotion.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>So later on that week, I went to the Army Museum which is across the street from where I live. Overall, a very interesting spot and had a bunch of military vehicles (mainly U.S) as "trophies," I guess. A very cool place to get my testosterone levels up. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG-eSB_uMSJrjRsmzWmduggighyphenhyphenLI_tG1OPv2_sMIdhO2-pvwkUEuNHZJIYrKsEZ9aPD_HvWJjqJmEul37gk6oWAsqBfC6ALWaZmuK2YcjYVIX1WxU3GL0SiA1vuleO1GqqW5HTAOU-qXw/s1600/DSCN0857.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br />
</a></div><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYx2UoHp-FpEmmo91TiK9EXANBUVeMyq13skWu7lZJ73fx7l3xEbcRJBWFwdy346zIy3SMzLLhUWUfqAgRLn79g7leCkwfGOAARj6jjxF_L21kewrIGu29pJVkavNBviYUJNJLlEvbXsuJ/s320/DSCN0854.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mines and Booby Traps</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYruCqF-0KyQaAiaiWi49SHTljdxHPi0SnR6uTCPwqsf2z2Jc4ieJYUW5MOU8ek-ibOTU3FgcOFmveH4iBkFvk1GLWV-RDidT1XLEFnlv3K8-utxD4hZZ87d0uQGgd-bU1Z_OJ2o6Y6k9S/s320/DSCN0913.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Another Guillotine? Boring... </td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYx2UoHp-FpEmmo91TiK9EXANBUVeMyq13skWu7lZJ73fx7l3xEbcRJBWFwdy346zIy3SMzLLhUWUfqAgRLn79g7leCkwfGOAARj6jjxF_L21kewrIGu29pJVkavNBviYUJNJLlEvbXsuJ/s1600/DSCN0854.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6TD5-CrzA8gHPmHcv67mhaexcq3qb_0jVkIGpysavOTvaqP8OPwgs6HQ2W0d-W97q0fyy2ezRcxi0lvhgjoAyrRrYU_J1gGFKhHbUS1Awpv8cMjkwzx6eWKUxh94VyFl5vY547kcBho4Y/s1600/DSCN0864.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6TD5-CrzA8gHPmHcv67mhaexcq3qb_0jVkIGpysavOTvaqP8OPwgs6HQ2W0d-W97q0fyy2ezRcxi0lvhgjoAyrRrYU_J1gGFKhHbUS1Awpv8cMjkwzx6eWKUxh94VyFl5vY547kcBho4Y/s320/DSCN0864.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsXfcHZtAp4nZdaCHsFw9nOQNhpy7reoq9cEhW4bggJZ9rzPZJWg0J6xdLvvMgpdPNHnoR6lNocd1WU3E7vx2W95QrqGkv7_bH-BC7N50u5B-y69ZvLCBOz9VK7GFUJW6PZuVFwahNQ_ks/s1600/DSCN0874.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsXfcHZtAp4nZdaCHsFw9nOQNhpy7reoq9cEhW4bggJZ9rzPZJWg0J6xdLvvMgpdPNHnoR6lNocd1WU3E7vx2W95QrqGkv7_bH-BC7N50u5B-y69ZvLCBOz9VK7GFUJW6PZuVFwahNQ_ks/s320/DSCN0874.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhUx8wpkXqzK_9089Gt2zhx0EFXLGBeMdKr7XFAxYcw8d9LJLFSLPbGqq5UoF-Er-N9eZu2L6VZDVLR0qiuSr62IbR3xwQpaI5N0z1tXxziHisIS_MX5hpiY17dRLa3EV-WoTbUCE1tpPZ/s1600/DSCN0878.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_Dk7lKqlT39uTidNxNKOWthurN9qmCbG63KVnzccoiG33SEmcnLzSAICvnhxmZsfcXGVlDLkbYjz54F8bf3lwDYTfpqafnLxkwJ8dU758-tpozYR2hoJXC1EhYJApFjf2EvV2Q-SDXJAc/s1600/DSCN0900.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_Dk7lKqlT39uTidNxNKOWthurN9qmCbG63KVnzccoiG33SEmcnLzSAICvnhxmZsfcXGVlDLkbYjz54F8bf3lwDYTfpqafnLxkwJ8dU758-tpozYR2hoJXC1EhYJApFjf2EvV2Q-SDXJAc/s320/DSCN0900.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYruCqF-0KyQaAiaiWi49SHTljdxHPi0SnR6uTCPwqsf2z2Jc4ieJYUW5MOU8ek-ibOTU3FgcOFmveH4iBkFvk1GLWV-RDidT1XLEFnlv3K8-utxD4hZZ87d0uQGgd-bU1Z_OJ2o6Y6k9S/s1600/DSCN0913.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitOtUoqFlipYyWrQmx6pGIp8XQTkHI0XPqATE8E7hB70u29VkiX87IA7nfnPt3qSxSbewbZygEq4aMNzX_8crm5xICIpvSwTI_Mu__F_eWI_D3c3pLGGUTsTB6aqPmxU5ptZBpHIH-AGRJ/s1600/DSCN0904.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitOtUoqFlipYyWrQmx6pGIp8XQTkHI0XPqATE8E7hB70u29VkiX87IA7nfnPt3qSxSbewbZygEq4aMNzX_8crm5xICIpvSwTI_Mu__F_eWI_D3c3pLGGUTsTB6aqPmxU5ptZBpHIH-AGRJ/s320/DSCN0904.JPG" /></a></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhUx8wpkXqzK_9089Gt2zhx0EFXLGBeMdKr7XFAxYcw8d9LJLFSLPbGqq5UoF-Er-N9eZu2L6VZDVLR0qiuSr62IbR3xwQpaI5N0z1tXxziHisIS_MX5hpiY17dRLa3EV-WoTbUCE1tpPZ/s320/DSCN0878.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">War Art?</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG-eSB_uMSJrjRsmzWmduggighyphenhyphenLI_tG1OPv2_sMIdhO2-pvwkUEuNHZJIYrKsEZ9aPD_HvWJjqJmEul37gk6oWAsqBfC6ALWaZmuK2YcjYVIX1WxU3GL0SiA1vuleO1GqqW5HTAOU-qXw/s1600/DSCN0857.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG-eSB_uMSJrjRsmzWmduggighyphenhyphenLI_tG1OPv2_sMIdhO2-pvwkUEuNHZJIYrKsEZ9aPD_HvWJjqJmEul37gk6oWAsqBfC6ALWaZmuK2YcjYVIX1WxU3GL0SiA1vuleO1GqqW5HTAOU-qXw/s320/DSCN0857.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Human Flesh containing Basket: French Colonialists had forced our folks to buy cut up flesh of their own cadres"</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG-eSB_uMSJrjRsmzWmduggighyphenhyphenLI_tG1OPv2_sMIdhO2-pvwkUEuNHZJIYrKsEZ9aPD_HvWJjqJmEul37gk6oWAsqBfC6ALWaZmuK2YcjYVIX1WxU3GL0SiA1vuleO1GqqW5HTAOU-qXw/s1600/DSCN0857.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><br />
Here are some pics from the Hanoi Flag Tower:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixHod6H4BJDjyyi9fm_PteveseSkECPz73-gYRU46jpQ5Qj0IgCwvuBdHCz7q3op0bGY54924PbtpVKGW5AylCTmPZftkFR9_X3CZgPjRAiiHVd3-PmQZkK2xEvt-i01JVu8VW_xKIL0ec/s1600/Hanoi+flag+tower.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="188" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixHod6H4BJDjyyi9fm_PteveseSkECPz73-gYRU46jpQ5Qj0IgCwvuBdHCz7q3op0bGY54924PbtpVKGW5AylCTmPZftkFR9_X3CZgPjRAiiHVd3-PmQZkK2xEvt-i01JVu8VW_xKIL0ec/s640/Hanoi+flag+tower.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLhqwMslyJMqClqt49SOGfklFuzrnXC0mcbPE2NXybc-qvfmEBtwiJmZKr-WRGdlFPrAq89iO0LCa-c4NIkhasfP5o0gx4KyJoxr2d2BFB7aZf9tHlNdb_WsBCJP0gURMTgXB-PXIITnK_/s1600/Hanoi+Flag+Tower+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="190" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLhqwMslyJMqClqt49SOGfklFuzrnXC0mcbPE2NXybc-qvfmEBtwiJmZKr-WRGdlFPrAq89iO0LCa-c4NIkhasfP5o0gx4KyJoxr2d2BFB7aZf9tHlNdb_WsBCJP0gURMTgXB-PXIITnK_/s640/Hanoi+Flag+Tower+2.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>Tonyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11124052758557171261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2437728745970209521.post-22623583436068795272010-09-05T08:09:00.000-07:002010-09-05T08:09:18.419-07:00Fulbright Briefings + Ha Long Bay<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPary1S_2AMZIR6bF_aX2smqGuy_fOKo-g0nyMzZNGkrnCw99Nx2kKNKhTmMW0bhFWnO8rnshcT5rCHe0A2-tWCJ5Uew1XLrMg7R2o8abcsTlBG-khjrqQhlBF2ylx77EYO2C5VFX_eFtP/s1600/DSCN0767.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPary1S_2AMZIR6bF_aX2smqGuy_fOKo-g0nyMzZNGkrnCw99Nx2kKNKhTmMW0bhFWnO8rnshcT5rCHe0A2-tWCJ5Uew1XLrMg7R2o8abcsTlBG-khjrqQhlBF2ylx77EYO2C5VFX_eFtP/s320/DSCN0767.JPG" /></a></div><br />
Last week we had "briefings" with the Fulbright Program and various people from the Embassy. From my notes, this is what we learned:<br />
<br />
The Government is probably monitoring my emails, blogs, and any internet activity I do for the first couple of weeks, just to check me out (so no email sexting!). Then, most likely, they will leave me alone (with occasional check-ups) once they see I am just doing my film studies project. If you're reading this, I sure do love Vietnam and their government!! (Also, I have been having problems accessing this site...)<br />
Crossing the street is the most dangerous thing you can do and if not careful, you WILL die.<br />
If you eat anything off the street, you WILL die. (The Embassy doctor was a bit dramatic, but I guess he was trying to stress the importance of eating clean food).<br />
If you go shopping for food on the street, you WILL die or get multiple viruses, bacterial infections, medical conditions, etc.<br />
You will have a sore throat for the duration of your grant because of the pollution/smog/dust. (This was good and bad news for me - I didn't know if I was getting sick with a cold but as it turns out, it is just the dust. However, I have a damn sore throat for 10 months...).<br />
If you do eat dog or cat, don't eat the brain because that is where rabies is concentrated the most. (Good to know).<br />
Presently, there are zero American political prisoners in Vietnam. Hopefully, it will stay that way...<br />
Generally, many topics are free to discuss in class (capitalism, democracy (to a point), religion, feminism, sexuality (to a point)) as long as you are not waving signs and/or attempting to organize. Nevertheless, you should be careful. Shouldn't be a problem for me because I hate democracy, right Government reader?<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I also got to meet the other Fulbrighters and they are a very cool bunch: 3 scholars and 6 students (including me). One scholar got his PhD from A&M and the other two scholars (they're married) live in Burleson, TX and teach in Texas Wesleyan and Baylor. Whoop whoop for Texas. Our topics range from tourism, law, economics, journalism, art (painting), new media (very interesting project on open-source software in Nam), medical equipment, architecture/urban development, and of course, film studies.<br />
<br />
The next day we went to visit the Vietnam Maritime University in Haiphong (the 3rd largest city in Vietnam and the largest port in the North) and discussed the University structure in Vietnam. Basically, it is reversed from the U.S. - The Government controls all of the funding, curriculum, and degrees (a centralized sturcture) as opposed to the schools having most of the control in the US. Most schools are slowly transitioning to more Western/US curriculum but they still have to be approved by the Vietnamese Government--some schools, like the Maritime University, are copying curriculum in the US, except they remove some classes that are "unnecessary, like American History." There is also that small issue of protecting the freedom of speech of professors. Minor detail.<br />
<br />
After that we drove to Ha Long Bay, took a boat to Cat Ba Island and checked in a hotel:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSK3bgIU5kflLUOOsPXvGnwjwB5mbBKqD-bGDti-C9RHelPqs8zme2fTOoSwaXNGxa2L6woOnK7_vwCArYKUdoRjcUqHrTVTFuQIVWsu7snNp4_CDH_VKodio25BJHGplwp3D8PyFUF9hd/s1600/rock+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="196" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSK3bgIU5kflLUOOsPXvGnwjwB5mbBKqD-bGDti-C9RHelPqs8zme2fTOoSwaXNGxa2L6woOnK7_vwCArYKUdoRjcUqHrTVTFuQIVWsu7snNp4_CDH_VKodio25BJHGplwp3D8PyFUF9hd/s640/rock+2.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjeavr47tv5tRJMJtV_bCkE8zLV9nGr1xbZdMQyaW2xL7LT48nJzDRNP53mbBb4kQuFTfcfy4CfLIEx5C6sz6B_pfrZtr8fDXe2eJvgt7182n_1Dai1DJSE2If0Me71tyHhJJeBWL_BmfV/s1600/Rocks+1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="190" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjeavr47tv5tRJMJtV_bCkE8zLV9nGr1xbZdMQyaW2xL7LT48nJzDRNP53mbBb4kQuFTfcfy4CfLIEx5C6sz6B_pfrZtr8fDXe2eJvgt7182n_1Dai1DJSE2If0Me71tyHhJJeBWL_BmfV/s640/Rocks+1.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2skFFxG0JaJG2Lip3FEHNOA038rH6StxLJrJjj2e7W9QGe4fwtjN0UAIYtdJqP78y5tL_gikuwYALx_MacJ0OlO6C_Zsj0LELkF2PIiD4nm_aDYrlM264nuRIm2JS02LS0XobxhEGTaNc/s1600/DSCN0786.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2skFFxG0JaJG2Lip3FEHNOA038rH6StxLJrJjj2e7W9QGe4fwtjN0UAIYtdJqP78y5tL_gikuwYALx_MacJ0OlO6C_Zsj0LELkF2PIiD4nm_aDYrlM264nuRIm2JS02LS0XobxhEGTaNc/s320/DSCN0786.JPG" /></a></div><br />
We also went "hiking" (well four of us did, the rest decided to chill on the beach) which turned out a bit more of hike/rock climbing up a 3 km mountain. It was ridiculously hot at the top with the sun but it was well worth it. Oh and wear mosquito repellent - I got 122 mosquito bites in those 2 hours after getting none in Hanoi. Everyone who got bit in the city didn't get bit during the hike.<br />
<br />
<br />
I must have good country-side blood.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBMgRYr8t7rAK5s6HCfIsMiLkZ70IEdL60r1NKp8CkfywzAIcp43wvhuMCTIuAYRgkW10y0KOo5758I9WZpDTkV3NsKakSjs_HqCq7AMSApUJQV4vq5IcMO4ZY8rRw21wPvGIZsoFaH6Am/s1600/mount+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBMgRYr8t7rAK5s6HCfIsMiLkZ70IEdL60r1NKp8CkfywzAIcp43wvhuMCTIuAYRgkW10y0KOo5758I9WZpDTkV3NsKakSjs_HqCq7AMSApUJQV4vq5IcMO4ZY8rRw21wPvGIZsoFaH6Am/s640/mount+2.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">top of the mountain </td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihLoWJEUTZi9ANlakRy-TRlKA5VWQhXa2_Lexe9AXbJ5HBbrr5XRm-Ec8sCINvz9s6Y-AJNWlEAc13uW3E8tX9P5B5jvjlcrqyBlG8I9yVw6gcUiwflwVKZR4eedGhVf0_40XPKg9K_aRf/s1600/DSCN0796.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihLoWJEUTZi9ANlakRy-TRlKA5VWQhXa2_Lexe9AXbJ5HBbrr5XRm-Ec8sCINvz9s6Y-AJNWlEAc13uW3E8tX9P5B5jvjlcrqyBlG8I9yVw6gcUiwflwVKZR4eedGhVf0_40XPKg9K_aRf/s320/DSCN0796.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our hotel with surprisingly bad beds</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb4qRfEdyDdKpP4C6Ms6dcmFAqAd4cf9X7Cd5R4LdkEEEhh_PmAKHkO-gHe4ntpMMNX2ReOVr1NF2UsxBviW0H5VudjRdpT45-BOPrNV4SLsoXiw4U1XuAsq5mgM8OI1luuDnZ7unHMwo1/s1600/Ocean+View+Hotel.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="140" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb4qRfEdyDdKpP4C6Ms6dcmFAqAd4cf9X7Cd5R4LdkEEEhh_PmAKHkO-gHe4ntpMMNX2ReOVr1NF2UsxBviW0H5VudjRdpT45-BOPrNV4SLsoXiw4U1XuAsq5mgM8OI1luuDnZ7unHMwo1/s640/Ocean+View+Hotel.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRaQWhmPUMT_i6hs-rHJpwiFcyrlQzrex-Z-8pHS6P41TJCWfPNr-hvJ7_J2M7KV5lBPviZAHzNQ0NOr7zryYGCLMJyUtNrOMa3tJA8XvvLIeNunDrt6_04beBVbKBjKcsZMJ391iVb-S8/s1600/DSCN0813.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRaQWhmPUMT_i6hs-rHJpwiFcyrlQzrex-Z-8pHS6P41TJCWfPNr-hvJ7_J2M7KV5lBPviZAHzNQ0NOr7zryYGCLMJyUtNrOMa3tJA8XvvLIeNunDrt6_04beBVbKBjKcsZMJ391iVb-S8/s320/DSCN0813.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">the easy part of the trail </td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<br />
tonyTonyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11124052758557171261noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2437728745970209521.post-36653058640604570782010-08-27T02:49:00.000-07:002010-08-27T02:50:30.747-07:00Lenin Saved my LifeSo again I went map-less (it makes me standout even more if I look at it in the street, making me a "target" according to my mom) and this time I really got lost. I was going to a place to eat and I knew where it was in relation to the temple of literature. What I didn't know (until it was too late) was that I didn't know how to get to the temple of literature from where I was.<br />
<br />
So after about an hour of wandering I finally saw someone who I recognized and walked home from there: Some dude named Le-Nin. Probably someone from the war or something =) I bet instead of the US flag, Obama has like 5 of these around the White House.<br />
<br />
Le-Nin Park is a bit small but very pretty. A lot of people are there at night playing football (soccer), badminton, hacky-sack, and drifting toy cars.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjssuI53pdJQhiDZGN1oIXND-yfWapAm0639Kvm0gpqD_wuMT8_apin7oXXkpsaBHAX8QHo3NL_GMddMPO41YrKtbXUHk6oGt-WyP4GMwXMlwAKsHl0OzpUH_VBoCgVXl9JYF8um54pPeKC/s1600/DSCN0692.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjssuI53pdJQhiDZGN1oIXND-yfWapAm0639Kvm0gpqD_wuMT8_apin7oXXkpsaBHAX8QHo3NL_GMddMPO41YrKtbXUHk6oGt-WyP4GMwXMlwAKsHl0OzpUH_VBoCgVXl9JYF8um54pPeKC/s320/DSCN0692.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBa65yVhUcpY6VBjCaeWLmqVmuqyHKCDJtVAZEaWkTMOke4tNV1fFdHBYLaHz49qzI0vW1aO39vEW5Uki2dML3ECveFy_6poQBxr55tRQ3y7QkuYpZqToMtnPyvCyFz82jX05APY7cWDy8/s1600/DSCN0693.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBa65yVhUcpY6VBjCaeWLmqVmuqyHKCDJtVAZEaWkTMOke4tNV1fFdHBYLaHz49qzI0vW1aO39vEW5Uki2dML3ECveFy_6poQBxr55tRQ3y7QkuYpZqToMtnPyvCyFz82jX05APY7cWDy8/s320/DSCN0693.JPG" /></a></div><br />
It is weird that in this city there are beautiful spots of semi-peace and trees with a street full of motorbikes honking away just around the corner.<br />
<br />
Across the street from Le Nin is the Hanoi flag tower.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAsJFaxiDADBp2-Q9hRysqGurjQl_vvmvgrJz8MmnC4k5Ru9yRfTYvJ0Re8MLg5ZW6mgjAvhxdclO9V7t9Xh5zzYfa1iHSXzSwzFzO-odli3L9_UF86knV57-VMRKgHhdSNKwAfKCoDUln/s1600/DSCN0684.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAsJFaxiDADBp2-Q9hRysqGurjQl_vvmvgrJz8MmnC4k5Ru9yRfTYvJ0Re8MLg5ZW6mgjAvhxdclO9V7t9Xh5zzYfa1iHSXzSwzFzO-odli3L9_UF86knV57-VMRKgHhdSNKwAfKCoDUln/s320/DSCN0684.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgys2C0hDr_M5JWMza0gSBhsOgfp6_-tWLoh3KmPC49dE_cT7fxaJvfxG1mSaZ7le1C4L9Voht8talZp5qCTPNBC47jeFlpYgJIfWyDqHby5XJOoBAeM1wXRMs8XMx2XG2hdjiVt1dpxvfh/s1600/DSCN0687.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgys2C0hDr_M5JWMza0gSBhsOgfp6_-tWLoh3KmPC49dE_cT7fxaJvfxG1mSaZ7le1C4L9Voht8talZp5qCTPNBC47jeFlpYgJIfWyDqHby5XJOoBAeM1wXRMs8XMx2XG2hdjiVt1dpxvfh/s320/DSCN0687.JPG" /></a></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqx0C6PaXiMCZZOh0WVAdfYpdMrfRkR75DLT6CvVu7kfDRT6KI7qNW3LHseSWorWtfM-K1DAqsPqs1t7FYNy4Lpn6rz3JPqsTK2LhFxsPw4d9LNlL3sia_rjSDvIowpfthH1yMluNOWRTe/s1600/DSCN0683.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqx0C6PaXiMCZZOh0WVAdfYpdMrfRkR75DLT6CvVu7kfDRT6KI7qNW3LHseSWorWtfM-K1DAqsPqs1t7FYNy4Lpn6rz3JPqsTK2LhFxsPw4d9LNlL3sia_rjSDvIowpfthH1yMluNOWRTe/s320/DSCN0683.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Highland Coffee is like the Starbucks of Vietnam....</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Tonyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11124052758557171261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2437728745970209521.post-3609164061537739322010-08-27T00:26:00.000-07:002010-08-28T07:25:52.655-07:00Di Tich Hoa Lo aka Hanoi Hilton (make sure to Click read more at the bottom)For this post, I visit Hoa Lo, known in the US as Hanoi Hilton. It cost 10000 VN (~55 cents) and I thought it was well worth it. Built in 1896 by the French to house Vietnamese political prisoners and later on used by the Vietnamese for American soldiers, most of the prison has been demolished to make room for the Hanoi Towers, two large high risers (go figure).<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRz0cyK9gHZNJsDcsiO8Q6o7xJtbD55TV0D5qRTMLaLrekvT0U_wvcq7KVU71C0Dgx8bCjEYRqaORZUeYlqbgshwNONQ-7j0yi0YG2yd4ob2lJXvilfbl3osXYCgJl7StzeE4luQPCsUSm/s1600/DSCN0678.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRz0cyK9gHZNJsDcsiO8Q6o7xJtbD55TV0D5qRTMLaLrekvT0U_wvcq7KVU71C0Dgx8bCjEYRqaORZUeYlqbgshwNONQ-7j0yi0YG2yd4ob2lJXvilfbl3osXYCgJl7StzeE4luQPCsUSm/s320/DSCN0678.JPG" /></a></div><br />
However, a small portion was left over and turned into a museum. Here is the intro sign (click to enlarge):<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib5pI8JRFPVvgnLyf7noiniu8CKr1C2QuyjvQZZuVTk0RTgZUDRkmjVahaRUr22n2aKLKcvQksNtdWDnElvKCbapwQmZFi_Sz01yrnwsHNuYscnzcQfxQgh-DfVXBzrqqn6TcmshQjQKyw/s1600/DSCN0615.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib5pI8JRFPVvgnLyf7noiniu8CKr1C2QuyjvQZZuVTk0RTgZUDRkmjVahaRUr22n2aKLKcvQksNtdWDnElvKCbapwQmZFi_Sz01yrnwsHNuYscnzcQfxQgh-DfVXBzrqqn6TcmshQjQKyw/s320/DSCN0615.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx1a8j2zR71q6MmoDTgEgNHDGy7xXOGDh5Pz8F_9TodPZ0fejASHDC0iM6_Um0FYiZ83khoN1Cd2IC2Y2jHmHEjWklw1vXfqIw3uCVD_c8VWtF1bQpor3m_hNj5DHUJdufiQqMZIap4Mcx/s1600/DSCN0620.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx1a8j2zR71q6MmoDTgEgNHDGy7xXOGDh5Pz8F_9TodPZ0fejASHDC0iM6_Um0FYiZ83khoN1Cd2IC2Y2jHmHEjWklw1vXfqIw3uCVD_c8VWtF1bQpor3m_hNj5DHUJdufiQqMZIap4Mcx/s320/DSCN0620.JPG" /></a></div><br />
As you can imagine, it is not a happy place - this may have been augmented as it was raining the day I came. There were also speakers throughout the prison playing dark, low, ominous music.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVIjEj1XBAZlGF6XV0Mpc9lEVQj20Hh28t6kL0pKXkATuqZlLLWgJNkDjG0-QySm725q_E-0trFnfpV6IH8T9RM-A6xr78bSy5mRWBEu4uVfJZ-r91aBhyphenhyphenRxMYT-JifutZafEuBLEcwXED/s1600/DSCN0626.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVIjEj1XBAZlGF6XV0Mpc9lEVQj20Hh28t6kL0pKXkATuqZlLLWgJNkDjG0-QySm725q_E-0trFnfpV6IH8T9RM-A6xr78bSy5mRWBEu4uVfJZ-r91aBhyphenhyphenRxMYT-JifutZafEuBLEcwXED/s320/DSCN0626.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The original gate to the prison.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj64kEr0n9A0MR1Lq0jDrRr7a2E5DYLicbn-xEQ4Ff7_WDA24LJ6jPGByxwTWHib8UDdS9pyT6t8CXXdzY0EuFh-KRoV-wcTrKatliFMYyzZIRDT0l7vRS5pmdxAgs6MwBUdqyCcFhD2M1Z/s1600/DSCN0631.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj64kEr0n9A0MR1Lq0jDrRr7a2E5DYLicbn-xEQ4Ff7_WDA24LJ6jPGByxwTWHib8UDdS9pyT6t8CXXdzY0EuFh-KRoV-wcTrKatliFMYyzZIRDT0l7vRS5pmdxAgs6MwBUdqyCcFhD2M1Z/s320/DSCN0631.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I will admit that these figurines scared the crap out of me. Again, very dark and that MUSIC!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD9o8dzViFSWJCOYcn-W0ccAawHFwtllCwdPEPAseuhDt8rY4tN4sxg4YS7TqV8puiJHBjRW9EQLZigM41vq3TRNoKjiFIsT-sGcFcdk10qZtomcbgYTEHKLnJ0dA0Dt_ZeJ7tKONcTmx2/s1600/DSCN0627.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD9o8dzViFSWJCOYcn-W0ccAawHFwtllCwdPEPAseuhDt8rY4tN4sxg4YS7TqV8puiJHBjRW9EQLZigM41vq3TRNoKjiFIsT-sGcFcdk10qZtomcbgYTEHKLnJ0dA0Dt_ZeJ7tKONcTmx2/s320/DSCN0627.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbYNq3Xr3v37ZU9NlnnQU888G78zc00PmySYQneIwm8V2nMZZHB1YP2Eb3546avJ9TPBktfUOr0LzD3saGOVP9UtocA5Bw08qnVRLZUAxudoMdg50x2vAPTa6jRuWvmpEmZRn8iEK2RyOi/s1600/DSCN0629.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbYNq3Xr3v37ZU9NlnnQU888G78zc00PmySYQneIwm8V2nMZZHB1YP2Eb3546avJ9TPBktfUOr0LzD3saGOVP9UtocA5Bw08qnVRLZUAxudoMdg50x2vAPTa6jRuWvmpEmZRn8iEK2RyOi/s320/DSCN0629.JPG" /></a></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp1F7rAhecbl-jqNqj4iTwBaQQGxQBt0j3NptwPu3I2DBL7zfJK9Enskz3MZiTWaQa3bpaWfwqt4l2rqoiuqh-8ggPorrOCfOiWdtstLh3b0qJmtYd1ELmhgcAuKIeYr1xIYQeSnHlT9d2/s1600/DSCN0635.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp1F7rAhecbl-jqNqj4iTwBaQQGxQBt0j3NptwPu3I2DBL7zfJK9Enskz3MZiTWaQa3bpaWfwqt4l2rqoiuqh-8ggPorrOCfOiWdtstLh3b0qJmtYd1ELmhgcAuKIeYr1xIYQeSnHlT9d2/s320/DSCN0635.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A European lady was sitting here - I don't think she knew it was a toilet.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj084nn_eerqenliEkj2iQos6ieb8T9hIppqQMOg4neW51DBghswuwU-dUDdRO1_ve8oTRzpVLdGvgrCu84OI_CpjKdwQ3aN2K0diYwU7gGYyIqtU9PcWzewcm4qqdOhDPV7AMv-k9EV4YM/s1600/DSCN0632.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj084nn_eerqenliEkj2iQos6ieb8T9hIppqQMOg4neW51DBghswuwU-dUDdRO1_ve8oTRzpVLdGvgrCu84OI_CpjKdwQ3aN2K0diYwU7gGYyIqtU9PcWzewcm4qqdOhDPV7AMv-k9EV4YM/s320/DSCN0632.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Their legs were shackled </td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijwFxCP8EdiMt9ZxudYIRgAMaFQ_gDfE6iciARmh9BjSUDWo4n1k-LVl1tZpvwtT0TCjAcCOK2pjPg-lDvE7r5EZP6NL_7FVUgM8X9CzXS_nHM3E2J0gBr6OlKsi5ToUUbRJHZnd8LrfDC/s1600/DSCN0637.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijwFxCP8EdiMt9ZxudYIRgAMaFQ_gDfE6iciARmh9BjSUDWo4n1k-LVl1tZpvwtT0TCjAcCOK2pjPg-lDvE7r5EZP6NL_7FVUgM8X9CzXS_nHM3E2J0gBr6OlKsi5ToUUbRJHZnd8LrfDC/s320/DSCN0637.JPG" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXPm8S5qGvTymoChuN2czoNmc539tD1yyPsOV_oZl8HwZSqAgL5Z8D4hO4d_3zzVbe4ZBakODnLueLU_NMY5HU1717rjhuapEuX_4p4kk7j9fISLlPo9lRtMbYCuGqhrsniQk7WlLxhXWc/s1600/DSCN0644.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXPm8S5qGvTymoChuN2czoNmc539tD1yyPsOV_oZl8HwZSqAgL5Z8D4hO4d_3zzVbe4ZBakODnLueLU_NMY5HU1717rjhuapEuX_4p4kk7j9fISLlPo9lRtMbYCuGqhrsniQk7WlLxhXWc/s320/DSCN0644.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">So yeah...this was a really scary area, around the corner is a room with a figurine in it. A couple and I walked around the corner, she (of the couple) saw it and screamed, I screamed, and we all ran out. Whatever, you weren't there. Did you read the sign above? </td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7Nwh1CcYYYrSTxiBSGTW0Q38765sf8ID5gZKcchJTXW17_DCDFqbOkUy8Lspy_ZlwSyjpXNd3pncEzxezjQ-V6enHZVWFbm7e8j_dPsG1kO0Ri2d3O2vuc1J7wi3GvsgMAdAN2gG_WMLx/s1600/DSCN0639.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7Nwh1CcYYYrSTxiBSGTW0Q38765sf8ID5gZKcchJTXW17_DCDFqbOkUy8Lspy_ZlwSyjpXNd3pncEzxezjQ-V6enHZVWFbm7e8j_dPsG1kO0Ri2d3O2vuc1J7wi3GvsgMAdAN2gG_WMLx/s320/DSCN0639.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjqqzROrF4ZwvAWU27rOQ0ookZQUocIcJNQJ0ZPzbVTEzZ_yER3roW9-eizkn2Lw5kH84E0YEDXqOVDXpR3GBbn7oQkunZLIaYpgoJQDYhGbzct3HfjrtInoMjSjsDcwONtbYd5d9j_lHj/s1600/DSCN0641.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjqqzROrF4ZwvAWU27rOQ0ookZQUocIcJNQJ0ZPzbVTEzZ_yER3roW9-eizkn2Lw5kH84E0YEDXqOVDXpR3GBbn7oQkunZLIaYpgoJQDYhGbzct3HfjrtInoMjSjsDcwONtbYd5d9j_lHj/s320/DSCN0641.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVyQJL_4RNKImNE3puC9bjcvMZN-CULrvazA1XQNrZTEaY9Xk0qqTQdt-1VAJcEtGCdrc4CUBag38D-65haAOc4nktkgh9qXv670tfeCKEpdFMOBHZp82-w1USo18nKZKkGV3i8akV6kul/s1600/DSCN0642.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVyQJL_4RNKImNE3puC9bjcvMZN-CULrvazA1XQNrZTEaY9Xk0qqTQdt-1VAJcEtGCdrc4CUBag38D-65haAOc4nktkgh9qXv670tfeCKEpdFMOBHZp82-w1USo18nKZKkGV3i8akV6kul/s320/DSCN0642.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf6kqw0BCcMRK5aAtcXSUJ3_TKrmuPd4XAszo0aEtrqXuZoTVFnYRDjCTupNC_dT9BHzNDzchpI47nodbNlTwF4rWuRd7ZArNlJNlKfdWpDQ5mDRSbcw5XXBjvYNzgamrFyySdNPUgVU5s/s1600/DSCN0651.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf6kqw0BCcMRK5aAtcXSUJ3_TKrmuPd4XAszo0aEtrqXuZoTVFnYRDjCTupNC_dT9BHzNDzchpI47nodbNlTwF4rWuRd7ZArNlJNlKfdWpDQ5mDRSbcw5XXBjvYNzgamrFyySdNPUgVU5s/s320/DSCN0651.JPG" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKEXWBaxcP1Ej8U-WdvZjEPw3cQ2YW6FQVv9zDzwRFHWY48ZpfwH5Acj1FCViBow7A9zMUGuYu1j5Z48WC9iH8smHguSk2_AkFpRCHaXf96SS7SmU-yhUHGzZo1m2pmJkO0k9DGyIWAmRX/s1600/DSCN0652.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKEXWBaxcP1Ej8U-WdvZjEPw3cQ2YW6FQVv9zDzwRFHWY48ZpfwH5Acj1FCViBow7A9zMUGuYu1j5Z48WC9iH8smHguSk2_AkFpRCHaXf96SS7SmU-yhUHGzZo1m2pmJkO0k9DGyIWAmRX/s320/DSCN0652.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The cells for females.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ1wGyqNf6-mGrS5Z-HlkE0pKrtsim0wpINbar4jtMK-Pa7mt6oGlxbs7apKLZaluFHNXyKHtA_j2QD153hWQFc3l96dVl34Nmig-VyxAAQ7FoThY07cwUx91-vMWxwIFzdbohg-OjgBUb/s1600/DSCN0655.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ1wGyqNf6-mGrS5Z-HlkE0pKrtsim0wpINbar4jtMK-Pa7mt6oGlxbs7apKLZaluFHNXyKHtA_j2QD153hWQFc3l96dVl34Nmig-VyxAAQ7FoThY07cwUx91-vMWxwIFzdbohg-OjgBUb/s320/DSCN0655.JPG" /></a></div><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz1tHfK1rs5Wu_G2zQdYXzbCnd06FRuxDVsV8rTxbS5S5GuQRRK3yiAM6jE9jOu_Lqi5WY6mWXwNVt_85OJt6lMzs1_mp5P2-py9qfmpsVuyql6VIhb8qSgVEAa4eyEUh8qetAtipyvDb2/s1600/DSCN0654.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz1tHfK1rs5Wu_G2zQdYXzbCnd06FRuxDVsV8rTxbS5S5GuQRRK3yiAM6jE9jOu_Lqi5WY6mWXwNVt_85OJt6lMzs1_mp5P2-py9qfmpsVuyql6VIhb8qSgVEAa4eyEUh8qetAtipyvDb2/s320/DSCN0654.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yup, this is legit. Pics of heads to the left.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFlbtRpuP_Ay2V10ElWjAdtm-WcyEgai_7zmvH7fSoJvpZzJbXRAGEJF441ehezyri_pxBrwLx1E38JkqaR7hb2XgWJ00bnzwTYxbhn09w3tIm5uX53oXxa02mV6hDqoRrPOskGzAr2xPR/s1600/DSCN0658.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFlbtRpuP_Ay2V10ElWjAdtm-WcyEgai_7zmvH7fSoJvpZzJbXRAGEJF441ehezyri_pxBrwLx1E38JkqaR7hb2XgWJ00bnzwTYxbhn09w3tIm5uX53oXxa02mV6hDqoRrPOskGzAr2xPR/s320/DSCN0658.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Another scary hallway of jail cells.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSVh4MxZAcBla6VVNCgmuT4BMZNFxS1QmeLwJkKVrdvbBR0Kj00UzdL7ph9gqOl8tgx4UkZHYN80xgg6_HllCyzl6ULX3JMIrwlH0QcuQzjsPL29D7PaoH_53VEcxHbhoFG_bwwDkY5jbz/s1600/DSCN0656.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSVh4MxZAcBla6VVNCgmuT4BMZNFxS1QmeLwJkKVrdvbBR0Kj00UzdL7ph9gqOl8tgx4UkZHYN80xgg6_HllCyzl6ULX3JMIrwlH0QcuQzjsPL29D7PaoH_53VEcxHbhoFG_bwwDkY5jbz/s320/DSCN0656.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHbe_fIzDLRUHrFBvG6rRsiHCBJDxHJzbVy90wm85INCYrbe9MZba7vFsEIxgvM_QqXwupCQlvQXqA5UXlW4Evk5yyieukmjGRQj_7RK_MB2OUtjMJ3Gj1TrcDP7S9sDlWPIk_tM-_TGF9/s1600/DSCN0659.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHbe_fIzDLRUHrFBvG6rRsiHCBJDxHJzbVy90wm85INCYrbe9MZba7vFsEIxgvM_QqXwupCQlvQXqA5UXlW4Evk5yyieukmjGRQj_7RK_MB2OUtjMJ3Gj1TrcDP7S9sDlWPIk_tM-_TGF9/s320/DSCN0659.JPG" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGipCVsTQ8mohNUcoM8wB4O_Yy42lI5RjczggpB1MizkXAV46O0K5sM5p_dG-OsKw_Ze4uV9eXRgHij2Ub4VXDfZWxRBkFdZu7X9lp4G95YoohxdJ6CIn9fZd5ZEEQEzny2k_lAxj4SO0t/s1600/Hao+Lo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="182" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGipCVsTQ8mohNUcoM8wB4O_Yy42lI5RjczggpB1MizkXAV46O0K5sM5p_dG-OsKw_Ze4uV9eXRgHij2Ub4VXDfZWxRBkFdZu7X9lp4G95YoohxdJ6CIn9fZd5ZEEQEzny2k_lAxj4SO0t/s640/Hao+Lo.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A memorial </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a name='more'></a></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnV4552iZ7rLzHlZegZB2JWYwyDZu3JzX8xHQchgNfe3-06K7ZVLxDY867mYeqDdMUv7vRYMgyyTqTaiy97C5oU95wFlpl6peCODHhfcd2jMdVGR9rK_ik-1WpA7k3YCUQyYlBy7gq4Ofu/s1600/DSCN0661.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnV4552iZ7rLzHlZegZB2JWYwyDZu3JzX8xHQchgNfe3-06K7ZVLxDY867mYeqDdMUv7vRYMgyyTqTaiy97C5oU95wFlpl6peCODHhfcd2jMdVGR9rK_ik-1WpA7k3YCUQyYlBy7gq4Ofu/s320/DSCN0661.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Notice the 3rd paragraph: During the war, the national economy was difficult but Vietnamese government had created the best living conditions to US Pilots. Remember, museums are ALWAYS historically accurate. Besides, why would they lie...</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVLY5VeUr5C0B2zYSboAbKMCMIokzpaJe4wbBiUaDepwsDpy12Vgi9HZLoZKDxWTM1hL7Jzrv_o4BQK2JV9VUHvT8Zm9DXK1R7DLk1dvuI5szTMDjeLiXADCAWsBUVsQm9YYQ94Ic1jPe-/s1600/DSCN0669.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVLY5VeUr5C0B2zYSboAbKMCMIokzpaJe4wbBiUaDepwsDpy12Vgi9HZLoZKDxWTM1hL7Jzrv_o4BQK2JV9VUHvT8Zm9DXK1R7DLk1dvuI5szTMDjeLiXADCAWsBUVsQm9YYQ94Ic1jPe-/s320/DSCN0669.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Look, they got to play pool, garden, watch movies, and play games. No way these photos were staged.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnIoyOtMyQnxQpBWTQGZ7mr4Wt1GR8BuccFtWiQh4osEvPnKtPvAR7kxcCMIBTAL0Rm1Z6ht-IpbDLslrWLZR7wFGB6KHKbnRHcjfWxb-i7trN5OCPTfvE0_ZXgsDF1MWQp4EwkmTLP7cI/s1600/DSCN0663.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnIoyOtMyQnxQpBWTQGZ7mr4Wt1GR8BuccFtWiQh4osEvPnKtPvAR7kxcCMIBTAL0Rm1Z6ht-IpbDLslrWLZR7wFGB6KHKbnRHcjfWxb-i7trN5OCPTfvE0_ZXgsDF1MWQp4EwkmTLP7cI/s320/DSCN0663.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">John McCain's suit</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2whI82mWenBwn0aeUU6jHs3TcdZv4vAfdGFEp1ud0ydtLDnGYh-XiC6IzdQH9W7ADX2LQcdTZiLsUfGvGnFwrE4_o7XWi7PgOBnGZKJclTytQkxDmTO-ttsknvNB18ygPJygyycRtqh0x/s1600/DSCN0673.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2whI82mWenBwn0aeUU6jHs3TcdZv4vAfdGFEp1ud0ydtLDnGYh-XiC6IzdQH9W7ADX2LQcdTZiLsUfGvGnFwrE4_o7XWi7PgOBnGZKJclTytQkxDmTO-ttsknvNB18ygPJygyycRtqh0x/s320/DSCN0673.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A shrine to the Vietnamese who have died in the struggle for freedom.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcaDvnE1fdgDiIlyWKoKwIXXGCaKq6MJ53vmKAfFP-hRcx8gNE8LF9obnvpUQtmH5Ml6FOxogrtDKtkxJc-4tS6r2qDiQg80B9HbUEqzbphNTIHorbyQ9tMgawLl2v64_qX3TeFY4e4bzw/s1600/DSCN0674.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcaDvnE1fdgDiIlyWKoKwIXXGCaKq6MJ53vmKAfFP-hRcx8gNE8LF9obnvpUQtmH5Ml6FOxogrtDKtkxJc-4tS6r2qDiQg80B9HbUEqzbphNTIHorbyQ9tMgawLl2v64_qX3TeFY4e4bzw/s320/DSCN0674.JPG" /></a></div><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5qWNsVSnNoEcx6reb3BACYWUBy2xD8O831VMnMwM3IxmwCtgtCuDk1nUD4Zec2R3l6c3fq_QVY8ufxprWIbFc5jZMYqwwx3XTb2swtnsSjl5NkQPXoKAg9_ACMbKfNnRV2eeZ_nUO86yo/s1600/DSCN0668.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5qWNsVSnNoEcx6reb3BACYWUBy2xD8O831VMnMwM3IxmwCtgtCuDk1nUD4Zec2R3l6c3fq_QVY8ufxprWIbFc5jZMYqwwx3XTb2swtnsSjl5NkQPXoKAg9_ACMbKfNnRV2eeZ_nUO86yo/s320/DSCN0668.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"American Pilots receive souvenirs before their release" Yay? </td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhManJLaCFQCxrQ0Bvw1BGRtL_PAV-aHubrPM-Sr_3_6EliECgeTrVXuVp_dfa7zz8G9Punw1QCG8jgCPjHcsoa6_aBwcsy7FKp9b31MBzE5GIu_wvAZgIJo2Lot99qWkikRhTq8el7Mukb/s1600/DSCN0617.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhManJLaCFQCxrQ0Bvw1BGRtL_PAV-aHubrPM-Sr_3_6EliECgeTrVXuVp_dfa7zz8G9Punw1QCG8jgCPjHcsoa6_aBwcsy7FKp9b31MBzE5GIu_wvAZgIJo2Lot99qWkikRhTq8el7Mukb/s320/DSCN0617.JPG" /></a></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP4bQP8bxJTaGLkZHYx97py4yqL85NKizr_Y_w3pkgA-mj4WQdTKG5vl-QNKSpJgFntkHDLE5d73dAVo_Grrecb0cncm2EIoLfzHw64aZ7SVombtLcimUDtnWaOVgS6EXHR9ScAsF6qutt/s1600/DSCN0672.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP4bQP8bxJTaGLkZHYx97py4yqL85NKizr_Y_w3pkgA-mj4WQdTKG5vl-QNKSpJgFntkHDLE5d73dAVo_Grrecb0cncm2EIoLfzHw64aZ7SVombtLcimUDtnWaOVgS6EXHR9ScAsF6qutt/s320/DSCN0672.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A play area for kids overlooking the prison.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLu1jeZG5-QTEkSHpgx7AnGBZsRpcTbeolUO25bRYHYe_MKul_pCZj9YdIxHXofM_h1Hjt6BuNsoCwSc514LAuPbf5j5XL6R-jj93VsVVWGbU_HwD0DsaPZYexuYLQ_LBGFJHNYsZO34s8/s1600/DSCN0676.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLu1jeZG5-QTEkSHpgx7AnGBZsRpcTbeolUO25bRYHYe_MKul_pCZj9YdIxHXofM_h1Hjt6BuNsoCwSc514LAuPbf5j5XL6R-jj93VsVVWGbU_HwD0DsaPZYexuYLQ_LBGFJHNYsZO34s8/s320/DSCN0676.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hanoi Towers plus a prison wall with shards of glass.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<br />
As you can see, I took a bunch of pictures compared to the temples (which probably tells a lot about me). Honestly, the Hanoi Towers have got to be haunted, right?<br />
<br />
tonyTonyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11124052758557171261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2437728745970209521.post-71993548173536283262010-08-26T20:09:00.000-07:002010-08-26T20:09:23.986-07:00Mi CasaToday I moved into my new place - it is on the third floor and a family lives on the bottom two floors. Rent is cheap compared to the States and I get all the amenities to fit my "Western" lifestyle...like high speed internet that I am using right now...<br />
<br />
If you would like my address to mail me money or good Tex-mex/Mexican food, email me. Peanut butter too...I'm pretty sure there is peanut butter somewhere.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuLcOewfHuoGxBD0XxetkX8idPoFSl-KkgeuFl6Arr04Xqfjb-KVUiRZHua9bf8v8VYAl_iEHTFabQevIxIyh1AaK5ENC_yAzB2vLcBS5ufH_UbVzjqYKj9tn4cHWhzS4LVtGjPRWwAIgQ/s1600/DSCN0695.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuLcOewfHuoGxBD0XxetkX8idPoFSl-KkgeuFl6Arr04Xqfjb-KVUiRZHua9bf8v8VYAl_iEHTFabQevIxIyh1AaK5ENC_yAzB2vLcBS5ufH_UbVzjqYKj9tn4cHWhzS4LVtGjPRWwAIgQ/s320/DSCN0695.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My shower, toilet, sink all-in-one combo. Still getting used to this.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxr_KexSisW6oQMNwbAXo355CCI5SH_X_6Iu2ktBQc5inu6TebIKSXtgNxIkly38XkdWZPFJav6ajERtO0W7bhNckZ5mVELqBGcE30Gf-9kYpOfTgWrUz_DILLGUrvNP9E4Krkmo5E4Hpd/s1600/DSCN0696.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxr_KexSisW6oQMNwbAXo355CCI5SH_X_6Iu2ktBQc5inu6TebIKSXtgNxIkly38XkdWZPFJav6ajERtO0W7bhNckZ5mVELqBGcE30Gf-9kYpOfTgWrUz_DILLGUrvNP9E4Krkmo5E4Hpd/s320/DSCN0696.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">excuse the mess...</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx0eCHzxfUYvlp-QHmDPtRXtF60FnWKxddMqGb_wAAQB28n2pdlh8WZ1fmYFTCsABuPpx5qg-jk81rKVReKWrPOCbjXYKG0mzwrdKXh51Dl40rtx7fPPmpBIGnecABAWHr3FQAo8QEr6V9/s1600/DSCN0697.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx0eCHzxfUYvlp-QHmDPtRXtF60FnWKxddMqGb_wAAQB28n2pdlh8WZ1fmYFTCsABuPpx5qg-jk81rKVReKWrPOCbjXYKG0mzwrdKXh51Dl40rtx7fPPmpBIGnecABAWHr3FQAo8QEr6V9/s320/DSCN0697.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My view from the balcony</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifKB_47B0OXRTMCAK1isAGCg77_BtpEH7iVys2AR9KM2tLiTjKBNkBOOSJ1LtHi487mE6Klv6WWG4KnH7H7gOoMdp6_QG_ioqKr-m17OA1cc-HJ8IWa8SBos1fRAiqAlMbiG-Kqd9HkINY/s1600/DSCN0698.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifKB_47B0OXRTMCAK1isAGCg77_BtpEH7iVys2AR9KM2tLiTjKBNkBOOSJ1LtHi487mE6Klv6WWG4KnH7H7gOoMdp6_QG_ioqKr-m17OA1cc-HJ8IWa8SBos1fRAiqAlMbiG-Kqd9HkINY/s320/DSCN0698.JPG" /></a></div><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh05pN9JuyD-IzNSMwpbth5VFqIcj0dG5oN2DtnMjop8lUPBDg8DwnwXvJrTV7rL31V6fWUgOvafSUHobilYCdGOdr2-RAlauJqUPBd0ulCmdUIncoL_TMmrFfXLFP158dJbLRao2zYXDDC/s1600/DSCN0707.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh05pN9JuyD-IzNSMwpbth5VFqIcj0dG5oN2DtnMjop8lUPBDg8DwnwXvJrTV7rL31V6fWUgOvafSUHobilYCdGOdr2-RAlauJqUPBd0ulCmdUIncoL_TMmrFfXLFP158dJbLRao2zYXDDC/s320/DSCN0707.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My dryer</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb2ViGmxmV9eRCVrRy0mEsRDatnxiqGHxTMri6kleAe8JsxMYGM5vhHjDMJKMH7fggYN6RXp4KjR3Z8X-UZvfD6KryiriJK6Wcg3KuFleUA2JmdWn3xMYc74lBGz6_Qbb-KyMLBoKW2Cil/s1600/DSCN0699.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb2ViGmxmV9eRCVrRy0mEsRDatnxiqGHxTMri6kleAe8JsxMYGM5vhHjDMJKMH7fggYN6RXp4KjR3Z8X-UZvfD6KryiriJK6Wcg3KuFleUA2JmdWn3xMYc74lBGz6_Qbb-KyMLBoKW2Cil/s320/DSCN0699.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sign says Penthouse for Rent - Where I should have stayed...<br />
</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Tonyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11124052758557171261noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2437728745970209521.post-44666472032000138402010-08-25T07:07:00.000-07:002010-09-09T09:44:09.791-07:00BEEP BEEP + Temple of LiteratureThe next day I walked about a mile and crossed several streets like this:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dx5M9_Iqx_ZG2j2Gif9UGmlx5-N_sbBew-vgoUD8jcFXezQQv498uYLQnDQPKNH6VHusHmu_cH9-NRegJ_2oA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>And that was a low volume traffic. I've been through worse. At first it was really scary but now I somewhat like it. It is like a challenge, a real life Frogger. <br />
<br />
The thing that annoys me the most is the incessant honking. I live off the street and I can still hear the honking from 7 am to 8 pm. People honk for any reason, just to tell people their presence even though you see them, they honk when traffic slows down, when there is a red light, when people are on the sidewalk (yes they drive on the sidewalk)...argh. One thing you have to learn is not to take anything personal. Nhung, my guide from the University, told me that after a month, I should be able to ignore it. Eh, we'll see.<br />
<br />
Anyways I went to the oldest university in Vietnam, Van Mieu (Temple of Literature). History lesson via picture (plus you see me taking the pic):<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5F9M1Y0c2kXDtJ-mSV2zPUMV7sw1ouPgSbep9E7Pq_XmDE_hAO9tmHWOoFHpf3AGVKzSoGy613vOyxtAi9RnrJx1Icm9qRnVl_n110XtUcWJHHu1LHhvCYOyKgNatU8SB6EFh2DiBZvjq/s1600/DSCN0566.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5F9M1Y0c2kXDtJ-mSV2zPUMV7sw1ouPgSbep9E7Pq_XmDE_hAO9tmHWOoFHpf3AGVKzSoGy613vOyxtAi9RnrJx1Icm9qRnVl_n110XtUcWJHHu1LHhvCYOyKgNatU8SB6EFh2DiBZvjq/s320/DSCN0566.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Click me for a bigger pic...</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDh9XFOS4vpts-XvHlnSVrmNzJWG7ds5o3CiqKdk4HEzWTdpIi1t3UXO1Y3UDjJ9DhGGvuCpEbqWGSHEEU40UUWbWmd3_jmU_xkYTIvUObhPlRopMzJEcFmTXv_sYomaaOw6sYCYfIDkU7/s1600/DSCN0557.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDh9XFOS4vpts-XvHlnSVrmNzJWG7ds5o3CiqKdk4HEzWTdpIi1t3UXO1Y3UDjJ9DhGGvuCpEbqWGSHEEU40UUWbWmd3_jmU_xkYTIvUObhPlRopMzJEcFmTXv_sYomaaOw6sYCYfIDkU7/s320/DSCN0557.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjOuZfaJk0YJhSNXbVJ7_olJrgouyhK5ykD0f-I8qRPGIOsYEvrlBRdRY7HbboX49ReuWC8XgQLNIu0HrMmVx7ejF-JK7CyvObjDrzddTgjgzwtU8Qf2YOmiw3oqXWIpf48zwM5OffNqSM/s1600/DSCN0558.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjOuZfaJk0YJhSNXbVJ7_olJrgouyhK5ykD0f-I8qRPGIOsYEvrlBRdRY7HbboX49ReuWC8XgQLNIu0HrMmVx7ejF-JK7CyvObjDrzddTgjgzwtU8Qf2YOmiw3oqXWIpf48zwM5OffNqSM/s320/DSCN0558.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2YgbWA5TSfeZOcAgpztbHoook8LLn1h4suvsxXMyeGA7JwsWuNClvtb4Ckhl_aVgfM8YF2VLNvIWTa4zhoBJI-fA-RVj6JBFeNHS80sMMQq8TSHciupASLv41ZHiGJ38Hxj6BunWySIL4/s1600/DSCN0563.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2YgbWA5TSfeZOcAgpztbHoook8LLn1h4suvsxXMyeGA7JwsWuNClvtb4Ckhl_aVgfM8YF2VLNvIWTa4zhoBJI-fA-RVj6JBFeNHS80sMMQq8TSHciupASLv41ZHiGJ38Hxj6BunWySIL4/s320/DSCN0563.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitrnf0C-HHHAqAwvMPwqicpk-LbyeyMwEo6qOAco7l4NnsSjz6w36wTdUXSZEzJTF-4Igv8oMrEZH-lXWuW5KWQ0LWv4HmcMQjCfMWJ8BxZl4-CabL7XGmH44Q7w9tb0KXvswLZ5ky5JM8/s1600/DSCN0581.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitrnf0C-HHHAqAwvMPwqicpk-LbyeyMwEo6qOAco7l4NnsSjz6w36wTdUXSZEzJTF-4Igv8oMrEZH-lXWuW5KWQ0LWv4HmcMQjCfMWJ8BxZl4-CabL7XGmH44Q7w9tb0KXvswLZ5ky5JM8/s320/DSCN0581.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKYvbOwtGUzT_romzjvli8KBl_0fkxfpGfhq0hxNu5QR2kYphRE9t4-Uvb4D7_Z6k0g89JuC9f3dHcMK0Z2f4p7AhQUcft4s7idmSI94GQTul1quZ0ZwfHMFA4sttDAT7drGuGcvW4bA48/s1600/DSCN0582.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKYvbOwtGUzT_romzjvli8KBl_0fkxfpGfhq0hxNu5QR2kYphRE9t4-Uvb4D7_Z6k0g89JuC9f3dHcMK0Z2f4p7AhQUcft4s7idmSI94GQTul1quZ0ZwfHMFA4sttDAT7drGuGcvW4bA48/s320/DSCN0582.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS0zg2Rokt3va-XgLi_gQoY6PAohGOta4bZ9W1vN6dAwFzvyjs83SQV0F878DoGKv9oEmYgmQWCMjbZChLyd1TTpwfA7SMP3IOgH7KdBA9m9dK4TsWYpqkF4-cfHAPey-qqEwtxRuyjgSI/s1600/DSCN0578.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS0zg2Rokt3va-XgLi_gQoY6PAohGOta4bZ9W1vN6dAwFzvyjs83SQV0F878DoGKv9oEmYgmQWCMjbZChLyd1TTpwfA7SMP3IOgH7KdBA9m9dK4TsWYpqkF4-cfHAPey-qqEwtxRuyjgSI/s320/DSCN0578.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXmyOLfSmQHeSel6ZSTrr6tXV39Gp-Asb320H8GmlgzX1LpQnfZXTmCKbqAxkpSU1xKE6KlV4RRMTm6F9uVPsjMtlAsk_Pa0AdcweO613RABip9igqOiCM7XJN_xTDs2MNFOY3fnuYvy7U/s1600/DSCN0580.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXmyOLfSmQHeSel6ZSTrr6tXV39Gp-Asb320H8GmlgzX1LpQnfZXTmCKbqAxkpSU1xKE6KlV4RRMTm6F9uVPsjMtlAsk_Pa0AdcweO613RABip9igqOiCM7XJN_xTDs2MNFOY3fnuYvy7U/s320/DSCN0580.JPG" /></a></div><br />
The Temple of Literature also cost 10000 dong and I thought it was better than Ngoc Son, the previous temple (the red bridge is free to stand and take pics and you are not missing much if you don't visit the Ngoc Son temple, in my opinion).<br />
<br />
I also went across the street and went to the Vietnam Museum of Fine Arts. Cameras were not allowed and it cost 20000. There were signs that advertised a temporary Brazilian Art exhibit but inside it said it wasn't coming until September which disappointed me. The overall museum was pretty nice with ceramics, paintings (I saw the 10 courts of Hell), and "folksy" art (their words) which consisted of toys, clothes, and quilts from tribal communities in Vietnam. Here is the outside:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD5Ll7tBgFZBqLmtNWbParb4BwbfrVqraImrcH_dC7csjf_SPyA8UUjAGtCqF40U_mxxT7sMurw_YGNF155FPccPVnssJvJx8WuLbIOVn9_QSNkK3FdWQLAllTlZ4VVePFplJWSD9QsBdp/s1600/DSCN0587.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD5Ll7tBgFZBqLmtNWbParb4BwbfrVqraImrcH_dC7csjf_SPyA8UUjAGtCqF40U_mxxT7sMurw_YGNF155FPccPVnssJvJx8WuLbIOVn9_QSNkK3FdWQLAllTlZ4VVePFplJWSD9QsBdp/s320/DSCN0587.JPG" /></a></div><br />
<br />
So 1.50 for 2 tourist attractions...not bad...Tonyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11124052758557171261noreply@blogger.com0