Down the Rabbit Hole

This is some of the lot of us on our first night in Saigon, or Ho Chi Minh City, or HCMC if you don't want to write it all out. Both names (and initials) apparently are still valid. Kinda like me answering to Chris and Christopher, just without all the Communism and war and agent orange and reunification and stuff like that. No one ever refers to me as CHF though, as that would require some evidence-based care protocols put into place along with some healthier lifestyle choices when it comes to diet and exercise. And a smokehouse is opening around the corner from me, so that ain't happening any time soon, though perhaps sooner if the smokehouse wasn't opening.

You never know with these things.

Actually, given that I used the term "evidence based" there is likely a good argument for saying "yes, we do know" with these things. That be the "evidence" part.

Anyway, all of these folk look pretty healthy, and after about 9 days together at this point, still seemed to be, minus the standard wear and tear you'd expect from a holiday where beer is cheap and enablement abounds.

Now, the reason why you write sooner than later is so that you don't totally screw up the timeline based upon the memory skills that come with being around a bunch of enablers, not to mention having a sucky memory to begin with.

The Mekong River cruise I talked about last time happened while we were based in Saigon, or perhaps while we were in transition between Nha Trang and Saigon/HCMC. My apologies. The good thing is though that while I may be confused and prone to wandering, the camera doesn't lie, so all of this stuff still happened after that stuff did.

This stuff happens to be the big floral festival thingy that was happening along one of the streets near our hotel in HCMC as part of the Tet festivals, not to be confused with the Tet Offensive, which kicked off on January 30th, 1968 (conveniently on Tet, hence the name) and was the largest of the campaigns of the Vietnam War where North Vietnam made their big push on the south, ultimately resulting in the building shown at the end of this entry being turned from Independence Palace to Reunification Palace.

Which meant that all the linens needed new embroidery, but I doubt that was too big of a concern given everything else going on.

You know, the crappy part about screwing up the timeline and not checking my notes is that now I've got these fun facts that I've no longer the context to share within.

Who needs context.

Regarding Coconuts:
The first press is for milk, and you'll get about 6 litres of milk from 10 kilos of coconuts. The second press is for oil, and you'll get about a litre of oil from those same 10 kilos.

Songs to Sing Along the Mekong River...

Baa BAa Black Sheep.
Viet Nam. Ho Chi Minh

Both very popular, at least with our guide that day Lan, who aside from having these really lovely flowy black slacks, also made us sing.

Monkey in the Middle is a universally accepted pastime for children and adults to play together. Also universally accepted is the disdain one receives when one kicks the ball into the muddy garbage water nearby where you're playing.

The language of disdain, by the way, is more clearly recognized than the language of love, at least that has been my experience.

Back to the flowers at night.

There you go. Flora.

And look, more flora, just not in Saigon this time.

This particular jungle sits on top of the Cu Chi Tunnels, which are a series of tunnels, outside of Saigon, where northern resistance and sympathizers lived, hid, and fought the south and it's allies from.

This is me in one of the hiding holes. It's small. And when the lid is closed, it's pitch black.

And this is the firing range where you can pay loads extra to shoot all sorts of weapons from the period, including, yes, you guessed it, jeep mounted heavy artillery.

When we began our tour of Cu Chi we heard this almost constant weapons fire in the distance throughout our walk. My first thought, not knowing about the firing range, was that it was recording, attempting to add a certain ambiance to the experience. It seemed like a kinda odd Disneyland type of thing to do, and not necessarily in keeping with the austerity you might think comes with a place where you can imagine people running, killing, dying, along the paths or in the jungle you are walking through. Then you find out that nope, that's actually happening, there's a gun range.

I didn't try and wrap my head around it then, and I'm not going to attempt to do so now. It's alien to me, and I'm okay with it being that way.

And, like some of the other places I've been, I've got pictures, but I don't think I'm going to share them here. That can be for a chat some time when you come over. What I will say though was that it was good to be in that hole for a minute. I would have liked longer but there was a line - there is always a line - you almost want to become Prime Minister so they shut the place down for your private visit and you can spend all the time you want. It was also good to go into the tunnels and "walk" which starts as a hunched walk and gets to a crab-like crawl at some points, which still aren't the tightest by a long shot I might add. It's good to do because, I think anyway, it's important to try and experience, however flawed that experience may be, what life was like for many people. And no, I'm in no way saying I have any clue. I don't. I'm super lucky that I don't. Having an actual clue would mean having lived through some really horrendous stuff, and I am fortunate enough to not have done so. Having something come along and remind me of that, well, that's a good thing to have come along.

Time to shut up on that subject.

One more thing though, that I also should shut up about I expect but will toss out an observation about.

The tour at Cu Chi started with a short documentary film about the history of the tunnels and the war. Now, as a Canadian, and not one who has studied much history, my "knowledge" of the Vietnam War is very much based upon Hollywood movies, and, given my leanings in film, comedies. So let's just say it's skewed.

Watching a documentary on the Vietnam War in Vietnam is a very, very different thing though. It wa made by the Vietnamese, it tells their story, from their perspective. And this story is not in keeping with the bulk of the perspectives I'd been introduced to in the past 40 years of my life. Now, I'm not in the least surprised by this, and I am not one who had a set opinion to begin with. I'm pretty close to a blank slate for things I will admittedly say I know nothing about. So which is correct? Well, as with many things, the truth I imagine is somewhere in the middle. Now, the other interesting bit about this for me is this... I do some quick look ups on Wikipedia to help refresh, check a fact or two, or pick up some new ones to flesh out these entries from time to time, and this was one of those times, just a few minutes ago. The write up on the Cu Chi Tunnels strikes me as reflective of my perception of the authors bias, and perhaps the target readers. The section on life in the tunnels, which I spent several ours learning about on site, is a brief paragraph that tells you practically nothing. The section on the US campaign against the tunnels is extensive.

I'll leave it at that as I am once again moving into things I know little about. Time to shut up and move on.

Look, it's the palace.

And what did the palace teach me?

That Secret Agent Man was not the only really cool thing that came out of 1966.

It's About Time

I was going to start this entry by commenting on the pace things have been moving at since getting home and how I realized I needed to get back to the blog, but then I realized that I had already used that excuse at the top of the last entry. I also realize that I've used it tons of times before along the way, so perhaps it's getting a tad tired, or predictable, or both. Well then, no more excuses. I'll write when I write, you'll read when you read, and somehow we'll get to the point where I'm sitting in the kitchen writing these words.

But it's Saturday morning, the sun is shining, and I'm sitting at the kitchen table still basking in the joy that comes from getting to see the director's cut of Blade Runner on the big screen. No, this glow has not quietly persisted since 2007, Derek and I went to see it last night. You gotta love Ridley Scott. You also gotta love J.J. Abrams. Any of you who have seen the latest Star Wars trailer know exactly why. Any of you who haven't should remedy that situation right now. I'll wait.

Back?

See, doesn't that look totally awesome? Should I even have bothered with the question mark at the end of that sentence?

Perhaps I should get on with it.

Nha Trang was home to a big naval base that was operated by Russia until the mid 90's, and hence continues to have a Russian population, and is a popular tourist destination for Russians. Nha Trang is where we arrived after a much quieter night train ride from Hoi An/Da Nang.

There's Ngoc staring out at something other than the mountains you see above him, though he probably saw those as well.

Upon arrival in Nha Trang we basically dumped our luggage at the hotel, hopped in a boat, and headed for Hon Mieu Island to visit the fishing village there before continuing on to go snorkeling.

The shot above is leaving the harbour in Nha Trang, while the ones below are arriving at Hon Mieu. That's how travel works apparently. Leave one place, arrive at another. Take pictures in the middle to prove you didn't teleport, because that of course is everyone's assumption these days.

"How do I know you haven't developed a personal teleportation device? Come on, show me the in-between pictures."

You could still fake that by teleporting short distances to get the in-between shots, so the joke's on them. But you can trust me on this one, no teleportation, I was on the boat with everyone else.

Well, everyone except for this guy, who was apparently looking for something. Hopefully not the keys for his boat.

Those round basket-y thingies in the front are boats. They come up later.

First though we took a wander through the village and watched people gambling out on the streets. Gambling is illegal in Vietnam, except on Tet, the Lunar New Year. Did I mention it was Tet? Well, now I have.

And now it's time for me to get arty. Aren't you thrilled the Ponte Vecchio isn't making so much noise in the background now?

See? Boat.

And this is the gentleman who captained the basket Patrick and I found ourselves in.

I would never want to arm wrestle this man. He paddles around using just one arm, the oar braced at his shoulder and his arm wrapped around it like a python around a goat, in such a manner that he can then make this lazy swirling pattern in the water that moves us pretty much wherever he wants to take us, and at a decent clip. He gave me a try at it and honestly, I expect that a python could have used a goat to steer our basket better than I could.

Pythons are incredible sailors though, and goats make for excellent oars, so you can't hold that one against me. Now, if the python was wrapped around a pig, then I think I would have had a decent chance at beating it. Pigs do not make good oars. They are however a fine source of bacon. And I know for certain that, brilliant sailors that they are, pythons still can't fry up some nice crispy bacon properly, so I think I come out the winner on this one.

After leaving Hon Mieu, in our original vessel, not the baskets,we headed out to other islands to do some snorkeling around the coral reefs there.

I've never snorkeled before, and am actually a terrible swimmer. That said, life jackets don't have to be for emergencies only, so all was good, I remained buoyant and alive, which, given that it's called a dead man's float, are not actually two distinct states of being. Mind you, I've always been a bit of an optimist.

My camera is not for underwater, so you'll just have to trust me about all of the snorkeling, and coral, and sea urchin stuff.

This is the lunch we ate aboard the boat when we took a break from snorkeling. This particular lunch was where I learned the valuable lesson, that, if you're handling hot peppers, it's not just your eyes you need to not touch before really washing your hands. What happened you ask? Well, let me answer that one with a question:

When going to the toilet, when do you wash your hands?

Let's hear it for life jackets and large bodies of water.

This is the beach back in Nha Trang. Great big long beach, with lots of people, huts, bars, umbrellas, chairs, towers of beer, and of course sand.

And there's the lovely people I was wandering long it with.

This is the lighthouse. It is not an actual lighthouse, more of a lotus inspired lighthouse thingy that does not operate as a lighthouse nor ever has. I think it's a tourist information centre.

See, told you it was Tet.

And this is all of us at dinner on Tet, well, actually Tet eve, or the Eve of Tet, or however that should be said. Tet is actually short for Tet Nguyen Dan, which means "Feast of the morning of the first day", and celebrates the beginning of spring. It's the most important holiday in Vietnam. I've already written a bit about the basically spring cleaning that was going on in Hoi An, so there's that. Ngoc also explained to us that Vietnamese are, for the most part, quite superstitious, and Tet, being the beginning of the new year, is very auspicious, and what happens on that day, how you behave to other people, how they behave towards you, gifts you give and receive (lucky money in little red envelops being the main one), and all that sort of stuff, really determines how your entire year is going to go. And it's a time to be with family, as they're the most important people. Ngoc was stuck with us, but hopefully the day, dinner, and the pile of little red envelopes we gave him helped a little in kicking the year off right.

After dinner it was time to wander around Nha Trang. A large stage was set up on the beach and there were performances going on, and there promised to be fireworks starting at 11:30pm.

Now, it is next to impossible to get consensus from 15 people on what to do in the evening, so my advice is not to bother. Decide what you want to do, see who else is interested, and head off and do it.

I for example wanted to look at topiary that looked like a first year art student was working on shading exercises.

After that fascinating peak into the early work of Edward Scissorhands, I, and several others in the group, wanted to check out the stage and all that it had to offer. And let me say, it offered a lot. I've got all sorts of blurry pictures of musicians, dancers, story-tellers, the obligatory older guy who is thanked for organizing it all and gets to talk for a bit (or at least I think that's what that was), and pretty much everything else you'd expect from a public New Year's celebration.

Just no Ronnie Hawkins.

And I was okay with that.

But there was this guy.

And no, the reason this is the one picture from the show that I am showing is not because it is the only one that is almost in focus, it's because of what he's singing. I know, if the microphone wasn't in the way you could probably make it out, but since it is I'll tell.

This man. This wonderful man in his wonderful white tuxedo jacket, came out on stage and sang one song.

Auld Lang Syne.

Yep, I'm in Vietnam, celebrating Lunar New Year 2015, and I'm hearing the words of a Scot written in 1788, set to a traditional folk tune (Roud #6294 if anyone is interested). Gotta love it. And what you really need to love about it was that, after singing the first verse (there is more than one) ever so slow and traditional and nice, he then Vegas'd the heck out of the rest of it.

Fireworks are pretty.

And apparenty I am not the only one who thinks so.

I'm not sure how auspicious this individuals new year was turning out to be. Assuming he made it unscathed, the answer is probably "quite".

The next day Kieran was swallowed whole by the beach and Eliska's hat ate her head.

This is all that remained.

You know, I don't think I got nearly as many cityscape photos during these few weeks. Plenty of time in cities, just not enough time spend on high ground.

On this particular day though we headed to one of the oldest temples in Nha Trang, which happens to hold some of the high ground. It's an active temple to Kali, the Hindu goddess of Time, Change, and Destruction, which is a pretty broad portfolio when you think about it.

Po Nagar was founded by the Cham people late in the 8th century AD, or CE, or whatever you want to call it. I get that scholars have changed BC (Before Christ) to BCE (Before Common Era) which then makes Anno Domini become Common Era, and that's all good, and it makes sense to not highlight one particular religion when discussing how much of the world divides two periods of history. I'd like to point out though that changing the name hasn't actually changed the event that was selected as that dividing point.

I wonder if they'll ever get around to that? I mean, to not mess it all up I imagine you'd have to select a different event from that year. The Yuanshi period of the Han Dynasty kicked off in 1 CE, so that would be an option. The Kingdom of Aksum was founded in what is now Ethiopia and Eritrea, Tiberius stops Germania from revolting against the Roman Empire. Okay, here's one.. Ovid writes the poem Metamorphoses, which is truly epic, even if no one turns into a cockroach.

I vote for the poem.

Anyway, about 780 years after Ovid put down his quill and rolled up his papyrus (though maybe he was an early adopter of parchment) the Cham's were busy building a temple to Kali at the top of Cu Lao Mountain.

And it is here, 1,234 years later (okay, now that is just too cool) on this mountain where Linda Martin was heard to exclaim:

"Wendy makes every picture she is in look better."

Which is a very sweet thing to say, and as you can see, true.

"She's so little everything just looks bigger." is how Linda followed up that sweet comment.

Which, as you can see, is also true.

I truly love the English.

We're no longer at Po Nagar. We are now at the place that I think Ngoc was most excited about going to, so excited in fact that he was going to go by himself if none of were interested - Mud Spa. This is where Linda, having the misfortune of seeing a large man in a very small bathing suit showering himself down suffered the further indignity of being nicknamed Speedo, to commemorate said psychological scarring.

I'm going to save you all the potential of psychological scarring by not showing more pictures of that. It was fun though, I will say that. And it was also where we got to see Ngoc totally chill out, and chat about his family, his father who was a Colonel in the army, Vietnam's history during that period and other stuff that you should get him to tell you when you go to the spa with him.

This is morning rush hour on our way out of town to spend the day along the Mekong River.

And this is us heading out on the Mekong River.

And drinking scorpion wine.

And making rice paper.

And trying to figure out how you could ever possibly lose a boat race to one of these things, while simultaneously being thankful you are not a goat.

After living in Delhi for seven weeks wearing helmets in tuktuk trucks is the cutest thing I'd ever heard of. But as the big boat near the beginning said "Safety First".

For the past few years Noah, Jake and I have gone on canoe trips with our friend Marc in Algonquin park. One regret I have on the timing for this trip is that we didn't have that trip this (I guess now last) year. Sure, we did go out east and got some kayaking in, and that was fun, but it wasn't quite the same.

Paddling a canoe through the river/canal/whatever you would call this stretch of water through one of the islands on the Mekong river, isn't quite the same either. It's really cool though.

And yes, for the record, the three of us and Marc will be heading back out for our trip this August.

Fishing boats have eyes. Other boats don't. Don't ask me why.

Now, I so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so wish that we had done more than just a float by of this place. Sure, it doesn't look like much, and I really couldn't get decent pictures of it all given being on a moving boat and there being lots of trees and stuff, but honestly, this has got to be one of the coolest things I learned about in Vietnam, if not anywhere.

This is the floating pagoda of the Coconut Kingdom, once home of the Coconut religion, and it's founder, and one-time candidate for the presidency of South Vietnam, the Coconut Monk.

Yep, the Coconut Religion. Eat only coconuts, drink only coconut milk. Monks could have up to nine wives. Apparently though, having children was not permitted. Not what I'd consider the best strategy for increasing your believer count, but hey, they lost me at the dietary restrictions, so what do I know.

And yes, the Coconut Monk, Nguyen Thanh Nam, a french-educated Vietnamese scholar, also known as His Coconutship, Prophet of Concord, and Uncle Hai, founded his religion in 1963 and grew the worldwide congregation to about 4,000. It was deemed a cult and shut down by the government in 1975. Go figure.

It does though, provide us with an option that I think is even better than Ovid. Let's make 1963 the new 1.

BCE - Before Coconut Era: Anything prior to 1963 now 1.
CE - Coconut Era: The period between 1963-1975, now 1-13.
ACE - After Coconut Era: Yep, we get to start at one again.

Chuc Mung Nam Moi 30 Everybody!