Tuesday, January 26, 2010

HALLO HALONG!


As luck would have it, a mere week after my harrowing, however un-touristy, jaunt “Up Country,” I had planned possibly the most fantastically touristy weekend of all time for my friend Anne’s visit.

Anne and I were roommates back at Fordham in the infamous suite 17F. Now, I use the term “infamous” lightly. We spent most of our time together in the early morning as she got ready for Yoga and I left for my 5:30am job at Equinox Gym. Sometimes we’d also pass each other during the afternoon, before I took a nap or read something. That’s not to say I wasn’t fun in college! There was one time when Anne came home at 4am to find me laying on the couch in my underwear. When she asked what I was doing, I moaned, “Waiting....”
“Waiting for who?”
I groaned and rolled over to my side.
“Ohhhh...” She said. “Maddie? Are you waiting to throw up?”
I nodded yes.

See! I was fun! I made some bad choices! Don’t let the pictures of me falling asleep on barstools at 11 pm fool you! I was wild!

Currently, Anne is on a Fulbright Fellowship in Thailand, researching Muay Thai boxing.
In college she was an African American studies major and I was a Theatre Performance major. We both hail from Pennsylvania and love the Pittsburgh Steelers. How the hell either of us ended up living in Southeast Asia is beyond me, but alas here we are.



And there we went: Ha Long Bay! Ha Long Bay is a Unesco World Heritage site and is currently lobbying for a position as one of the “7 Wonders of the World,” or so the billboard saying “VOTE FOR US!” attests. I didn’t believe this, thinking, “Whatchya gonna do Ha Long, beat up the Taj Mahal?” But apparently it’s true! Ha Long Bay is indeed nominated to become one of the New 7 Wonders of “Nature.” Vote today! (I did). http://www.new7wonders.com/



You could call Ha Long a tourist trap, but it’s legitimately fun so you don’t mind being trapped there. Also, even during a cold and rainy weekend, its quite beautiful with 1,969 limestone islands. Some of the islands also have some awesome caves, like “Surprising Cave,” which we of course visited, in all its neon-lit glory.

We stayed overnight on a junk (i.e. boat) called the Hanoi Opera. There are hundreds of these Junks around the bay, each reminiscent of French Colonial Viet Nam. Ours even went so far as showing “Indochine” starring Catherine Deneuve on the big screen. It was pure-touristy goodness, and I loved every minute.





Well, almost every minute. The last day I started having tummy trouble--just like a real tourist! I think it was the squid. This happens about once a month, and I take it as my digestive systems’ way of reminding the rest of my constitution that despite living here for 6 months, its meat and potato upbringing in no way prepared it for life in the bowels of Asia, pun intended. What can I do?

Monday, January 25, 2010

"Don't Go Chasing Waterfalls..."

“Don’t go chasing waterfalls,” says the song. “Please stick to the rivers and lakes that you’re used to....”

Flashback to my 10 year-old-self walking down Donegal Springs Road on the way to the Mount Joy pool, yellow walkman in hand and my bffl Erica by my side, singing our hearts out as we personally identify with the street wise words of Chile, T-Boz, and Lisa Left-Eye--the collective TLC.


Flash forward to last weekend: Emily W. and I are on the backs of motorbikes going 70+ km/hour around the jagged mountains that border China. Signs yelling “Attention: Frontier” whiz by as our questionable-looking drivers again take that curve a little too tight and my heart again lodges itself in my esophagus.

We are literally chasing a waterfall. All I can say is I should’ve listened to T-Boz.

See, a few weeks ago Emily came up with this great idea to go see the largest waterfall in Vietnam. It sits right on the border with China and is supposed to be really beautiful. Emily doesn’t even need to sell me on this idea; I think it sounds great. Best of all, it is off the proverbial “beaten track.” I sign on, and we are ready for adventure.



When you’re a westerner living in Viet Nam, it’s easy to get cocky. Not only do you think you’re better than any tourists, you also think all tourists are idiots. Oftentimes you are right, but that’s another blog post. These feelings eventually lead to a desire to go off the beaten track...To go where few westerners have gone before....To dig your heels into the Vietnamese soil and see where it takes you...

...to make poor life choices you will never be able to tell your mother about....

The plan was a good one. We would go to Cao Bang, the town where the waterfall is located, via sleeper bus. The ride would be 9 hours, but armed with my snuggie, kindle, Eddie Bauer reading light, and benadryl I’d get through OK. Emily and I also stocked up on Oreos and Crackers. Later we would find these packaged goods to be manna from heaven .

The bus was packed, and Emily and I were lodged in the back row where the bathroom would be in most bus-type situations. Being as this was not most bus-type situations, there was no bathroom. I repeat: 9 hour bus ride.The bus was filled with mostly men...men lying in the aisles, men laying their seat into Emily’s lap, men sleeping on my shoulder, men putting their feet onto other men’s seats, men with the stinkiest feet I’ve ever smelt. It was a long 9 hours, made infinitely longer when I woke up at about 1am to feel the bus CAREENING around steep cliffs and nearly plummeting off the edge more than once; I couldn’t sleep for fear that I would miss my own death.

We arrived at Cao Bang at about 4:30 am and went to our hotel. No one spoke English for miles, so between some creative Vietnamese (on Emily’s part) and some creative charades (on my part) we communicated that we had a reservation and wanted to check in. After sleeping for a few hours, we decided to do what we had come to do: see the waterfall! We negotiated with the hotel to arrange two motorbike taxis to take us there. We could have gone by car, but it was more expensive and HEY! we were there for an adventure.

This was a mistake.

We thought the waterfall was about 2 hours away. It was, in fact, 3 1/2 hours away and only accessible via some of the steepest, most dangerous roads I have ever been on. These were also some of the shadiest looking Xe Om (Motorbike taxi) drivers I had ever met. There were times I thought they were racing. There were times I thought they were drunk.

How was the waterfall? Let’s just say it was dry season. The waterfalls’ one redeeming quality was that it is right on the border, so now I can say I saw China. So that’s cool, right?


After the somewhat disappointing waterfall, Emily and I enlisted our Xe Om drivers to take us to Tiger Cave. This place was legitimately cool. The cave was used as a Vietnamese hospital during China’s most recent invasion (late 70s-early 80s). My pictures didn’t turn out great (because I was in a cave) but the rock formations were really awesome. Also, there were 2 little local Vietnamese girls who followed us through the cave and kept hiding and giggling.



By the time we finished at the cave, we were pretty well shot. We were also starving. While our drivers finished their game of pool--and presumably their shots of rice wine--at a nearby house, Emily and I got a cute old man to sell us some dry noodles and hot water. He kept talking to us and giving us a knowing look like, “You understand me, yes?” But we didn’t. It wasn’t English, but it didn’t sound Vietnamese either. Finally we realized he was saying “Bonjour” and “Merci.” We bonjoured right back, but explained that we’d come from America. Crazy to think that man probably learned his French back when France still occupied Vietnam.

Eventually the drivers finished shooting pool and beckoned us to leave. The ride back to town was just as harrowing, if not more so. By the time we got back to the hotel at dark, Emily and I both felt like we had aged 10 years. My eyes were literally bloodshot, and both of our bodies were sore from staying so tense for the SIX hours on the motorbike. We took a unanimous vote and decided to head back to Hanoi first thing in the morning.




There were two common phrases repeated on this trip:
1. This is the most dangerous thing I’ve ever done.
2. We should be very proud of ourselves.

And we were proud of ourselves. Really and truly. We had gone off-the-beaten track and survived.

We also learned a valuable lesson: the beaten track is beaten for a reason--and the unbeaten track remains so for another reason, just as viable. You don’t gotta mess this.

Still I’m TOTALLY glad we did it. It was an adventure, and there’s no one else who could’ve gotten me through it like Emily. She’s a real trooper.

The next night we had sushi in Hanoi and slept like babies in a hotel.

Tuesday, January 19, 2010

Here in Viet Nam I'm lucky enough to get CNN and BBC on cable and the NY Times via the internet. So no, I have not been living under a rock, and yes, I have been following the news about Haiti.

Since I've been in Vietnam--almost 6 months now--I have witnessed some devastating levels of poverty. When I had my preliminary Fulbright interview with Fordham's board, one of my interviewers said that his one concern about me, or perhaps for me, was that because my travels had only ever taken me as far as London, I would be unprepared to deal with the shocking poverty which exists in a developing country like Viet Nam.

Now, it goes without saying that I have not personally had to "deal with" poverty in Viet Nam. I have everything I need, and my complaints about rats and power are just the trivial ramblings of privileged girl from Pennsylvania--made more trivial in light of recent events.

However, like anyone who has set foot in Viet Nam, I have seen the poverty. Here it exists not only in the Northern mountains or some slum-like section of Ha Noi, but also in the homes of my students' families and on the farms of women I buy my food from everyday. Poverty is palpable to me here in a way that it never was in America.

Living in New York, I of course witnessed different levels of poverty. By the end of my time at Fordham, I could have recognized the homeless men of the neighborhood had I seen them anywhere in the city. But living in America, I also bought into this stigma about the poverty and homelessness that existed even right in front of me. I had this idea of the "American Dream" and pulling yourself up "by your own bootstraps." With the exception of children, its easy to look at certain poor sectors in America and think that they are somehow responsible for their own misfortune. They were addicts. They were users. They were criminals. They didn't try hard enough. They didn't look for help...etc, etc.

I will tell you that I was mistaken in this, and it is pretty hard for me to admit to harboring such an opinion given my liberal leanings. But if I'm honest with myself, those are feelings which I had and feelings that I think others have, too.

This is a view point which I simply can't comprehend in a landscape like Viet Nam. Everyday I see people who never even had a shot at getting out of poverty. You can't say it's their fault for not "trying hard enough"; you can't say it's their fault at all. You can only hope that their children have a shot at something better. Actually, perhaps you can hope for more than that: You can hope that their children demand something better. If Americans are too entitled, I often think that my students and colleagues here aren't "entitled" enough.

All of this is basically to say that as I sit in Viet Nam and watch the chaos enfold in Haiti, I have a different perspective on it than I would have if I was still in America. I also wonder, what if something like the earthquake happened in Viet Nam while I was here? What would I do? What would happen to my students, my colleagues, my friends?

And Haiti is an even poorer country than Viet Nam. What is next for them? I hope the help keeps pouring in.

Thursday, January 14, 2010

Heading for the border...

Tomorrow night I'm catching a night bus and heading to the Chinese border to see this....


THE LARGEST WATERFALL IN VIETNAM!!!


Get excited, folks. Get excited.

Saturday, January 9, 2010

Comedy of Errors

How would I describe last week? A Comedy of Errors? Which is funny only in hindsight because I put myself up in a nice hotel for the weekend and am currently drinking a diet coke at an internet cafe? Where samba music is playing?

The running water and power were intermittent, I SAW. A. RAT., my internet came and went, I SAW. A. RAT., there was a minor break-in to my flat, I SAW. A. RAT.

You already know about the rat. Someone suggested that I name him to make him less threatening. I name him “Better be dead before I get back on Monday.” I even made my own rat poison: detergent and peanut butter. He wants to go through my garbage and shit on my countertops?! OK. I’ll kill him.

I’m sorry. I’m usually not this violent. And to be honest, while I do honestly and truly hope he dies a painful death, we were getting on better by the end of the week. Now when I hear him in the kitchen at night, I kick the door to give him a little warning before I come in. I know he’s there, but I guess I’m kind of like the parent who knows their teenager is drinking but really doesn’t want to catch the kid and have to do something about it. So I hear him scuttle away THEN I open the door. I am wholly unarmed with the exception of the Dansko clogs on my feet, so if he is just sitting there I can either A. Stomp on him or B. Break into Irish Step-Dancing to entertain him to death. I’ve thought this thing through.

OK. Enough about the rat...

The intermittent power and running water have become somewhat par for the course, especially in bad weather. I can deal with the lack o’ aqua; I can even deal with the lack o’ light. The real problem is that I have no coping skills when it comes to a lack o’ internet. Seriously: My internet goes out and my vision starts to blur. This is definitely my problem, not Vietnam’s, and one that I should really address, but every time I get that devastating little “Website not responding” box, I start to seize up. Suddenly, I become terrified that VERY IMPORTANT PEOPLE are emailing me about VERY IMPORTANT THINGS, and not only am I missing out on opportunities of a LIFETIME, but I may never see the light of Web again! Ever. I have actually gotten better at dealing with this since the beginning of the year. I used to go to my host contact to ask for help if the outage lasted too long, but she would always laugh and say something like, “Maybe it is because you use the internet too much? Yes, Madeline? Hahahah.”

I rarely found this funny. Addiction is no joking matter.

Oh! And the break in! This happened after the rat, and honestly to call it a break-in is a little dramatic. It was more like a “sneak-in.” I always lock my apartment door, but apparently I had forgotten this once. I was sitting on my bed reading when I heard hushed voices. The entrance to my flat is in the kitchen, then there is another door to my bedroom area. There is also a curtained window that looks from the bedroom to the kitchen. I heard the voices and saw shadows through the curtain, then just as the two figures came into full view through my partially closed bedroom door, I yelled at the top of my lungs, “Excusssssssseeeeee Meeeee!”

Excuse me. Unknown men were entering my flat unannounced and I yelled “Excuse Me.”

Who am I? Emily Post?!

Now, I did yell it with great force--enough force to send these presumable college boys hurtling out of my apartment and running down the hall (I live on campus). I threw on my shoes and dashed out after them, but I really had no idea what their faces looked like and I never caught them. Later I told my host contact about the incident just so when people in the class down the hall told her I had come sprinting after the intruders she would know what happened. She was a little concerned, but she assured me I wasn’t in any danger: “It's ok. People are just curious about how you live since you are so strange.”

This is probably true, but I’ve really got to teach people here an alternative word for "strange." Different? Foreign? Exotic? Wildly attractive and intelligent?

So yeah: not the best week of my life. The good news is it’s over and I got a great manicure yesterday!! Getting my nails done is the one thing that really makes me feel like I'm at home: My nails are done by someone who's language I don't speak, but I nonetheless know she's talking about me the whole time. It's just like New York.

Wednesday, January 6, 2010

My Parents and Emma Do 'Nam

After 5 months of great anticipation, my parents and little sister Emma finally came to Viet Nam.

Let’s be honest: I had been worried about the visit pre-arrival. Viet Nam is a lot to deal with (understatement of the century); I’ve been here over 5 months and everyday I’m surprised/shocked/thrown into orbit by something/someone/some happening.

Would my parents and blonde baby sister be able to handle it?
Would I be able to handle them?
WOULD WE ALL MAKE IT OUT ALIVE?!?!?!?

The weeks leading up to the trip were filled with planning on my part and incessant questions on my father’s part: Would the food make him sick? Would they all need the vaccine for Japanese Ensyphilitus, the rare disease spread by 1 strain of mosquito in the Mekong Delta? Would he be able to get deer jerky through customs? (Now you know where I get my inquisitive nature...)

Rather than rehash the whole 7 day Felix tour de ‘Nam, let me give the highlights.
Then please watch the video slide show I made. (iMovie has changed my life)

Top Ten of the Felixes-Do-Nam, Holiday ’09-10

1. Seeing everyone for the first time at the airport
2. Snuggling with Emma at the Rising Dragon (Emma actually doesn’t like to snuggle, but we did sleep side by side, and I got a snuggie for Christmas...)
3. Taking the night train to Sa Pa, and waking up every hour, on the hour to see my dad pacing, looking out the window, opening a can of beer, groaning in sleepless agony, etc, etc.)
4. Watching my mom master traffic (she was really good).
5. Watching my dad master chopsticks (he was really good).
6. Talking to my mom about my future plans, i.e. my mom calming me down after I freaked about the fact that I will need to find a real J-O-B come summer.
7. Taking a hike through the hills of Sa Pa.
8. Watching my dad single-handedly entertain at least a dozen female Red Dao tribe members for 4 hours.
9. Taking my family to see my school/meet my student and colleagues
10. The impromptu photo shoot that my students insisted on having with my parents and Emma, and Emma saying, “I love Vietnam. I feel famous here.”

Really, all those things aside, the best part of the trip--and I warn you I’m a sap--was just BEING with them....le sigh.

And YES. We all made it out alive!! They did GREAT. Really. And if none of my other plans work out, I know I can have a future as a cruise director.

Now that they’ve gone, I am officially past the halfway point of my 10 months here. I would say that it’s gone super fast, but then I’d be a big fat liar, and who wants to be fat? So let me just say it’s gone, and I’m still going, so there must be something to be said for that.

Now excuse me: I have to go try to catch a rat.



There is a rat in my flat


He is small. He is black. He is furry. He is not cute.

I think he has been eating my trash and making the little noises I hear in my kitchen while I'm trying to sleep. He may also be the "gecko" who was eating my undies. I don't know how he got in or how to get him out; I only know that my two beady eyes met his two beady eyes as he scurried under my kitchen sink and dashed out of sight to God knows where.

When I was in 5th grade, and my big sister Alix was in 9th grade, there was a small gray mouse in my house on Chocolate Avenue. Alix's friend Holly was over, and they freaked and called Holly's very cute boyfriend to come over. His name was Justin. It all ended up being kind of fun--screaming girls, a pubescent boy with a broom, the shivering, terrified little mouse....

But today the only screaming girl was me, there was no man to be found, and the rodent in question was NOT a mouse. Blech.

Happier post tomorrow: I'm getting all my fam's visit pictures together...suffice it to say I wish my Pops was still here to kill Ratatouille, but we had an amazing trip together.