Wicked Asian Spiritual Journey

U Da Man Buds

2010-02-15T23:00:00.000-08:00

Pleased and honoured to announce that we have a new addition to our happy trio of travelers: Lalit Golani has arrived in Nam.

Unexpected Adventures in Nam

2010-02-07T05:35:00.001-08:00

Hello team,

The last three weeks have been absolutely amazing! Not even sure where to begin, so might as well start with the beginning:

Mekong Delta:

The Lonely Planet aptly calls the Mekong Delta the 'rice basket' of Vietnam. The abundance of rain and a favourable climate means this area usually produces three rice harvests per year, and also produces a wide variety of fruit crops, including some of my favs - mango and papaya. We stayed in Can Tho, the commercial centre of the region, where we were keen to see the famous floating markets. We checked into a hole-in-the wall hotel in a narrow ally with sliding iron gates, and booked a boat for the following morning with the hotel clerk. The next morning, at 5:30 a.m., we headed down to the lobby wiping sleep from our eyes and wondering where to go. Our hotel clerk’s assurances the night before of “don’t worry, boat man come for you” seemed slightly less satisfactory in the dim light of morning, but we were getting used to chronic uncertainty. But sure enough, within fifteen minutes, we were met by a stranger to whom we offered our tickets, who led us through a tangle of dark alleys and ways leading eventually to a set of small concrete stairs descending towards a clump of tiny wood boats at the waterfront. It seemed a little dodgy, but that’s a key ingredient to the romance of travelling on a budget.

In the end, it was an amazing day. We had no idea what to expect from these 'floating markets’ and in the back of our minds we had half expected something out of Water World. In reality, floating markets are a tight huddle of boats packed to the hilt with every kind of fruit you can think of, pawning off their merchandise to vendors in smaller boats who then take it to (land) markets. Scooting throughout, we were stoked to see small boats with complete Pho kitchens on board selling breakfast, and others selling fresh hot coffee. Pho on a boat – that’s living! After seeing the markets our guide took us to see a rice noodle factory (strange, but interesting - a lot of elbow grease to make rice noodles) and then cruised us through the smaller canals that the big tour boats can't get into. It was flipping beautiful, and we saw every kind of fruit tree that day: an important trip objective for me personally. I now have a definitive grasp on how pineapples grow, and I am a better person for it. Throughout the day we also encountered an 8 inch spider, a color-changing lizard, and held a snake. Overall, a pretty successful day!

Beach and Sand Dunes

Our next stop was Mui Ne - kind of a touristy beach town - but we had a wicked time. The highlight was renting motorcycles for ride out of the tourist center into the countryside, with a stop to see some of epic sand dunes unique to the area. Hiking into the centre of them, you almost feel like you are really in the middle of a bonafide desert by the sea. Around our budget hotel (side note: budget means when I opened a window it unhinged and fell 2 stories), we spent a bunch of time swimming and playing Frisbee and football with the staff, who cooked us one of the best dinners we have had so far in Vietnam. The beach was incredible. At night, we met a decent posse of other travellers including a bunch of Aussies, Americans, some Norwegians, Brits and Italians, who we hung out with at a sweet beach bar featuring bean-bag chairs and cheesy dance music. We keep on bumping into a lot of them at various points along our trip up to the North.

This is Vietnam?

After Mui Ne, we hopped a crammed bus to Dalat (in the central highlands) up a super sketchy road riddled with potholes the size of kiddie-pools. In the moments when our eyes could re-establish focus between intervals of levitation and violent rump-jarring impact, the views out the window were probably the most breathtaking and terror inspiring yet. Picture a winding single lane overlooking rainforest and water filled gorges carved from a mountain which constantly seeks to reclaim its stolen territory, dispatching a steady stream of car-sized boulders and minor landslides. Gradually the landscape changes and, within hours, we completed a trip through the Narnia wardrobe; taking us from a sweltering hot beach to emerge in something like the foothills of the Alps in spring (not that I have ever been there - just the feeling I got). A miraculous 4-hour journey at 30 km/hr from palm trees to evergreens: special.

The town of Dalat itself was super strange – along with the uniquely moderate tropical micro-climate, it looks and feels like a piece of Europe mixed into the middle of Nam. It has a lot of European architecture, as it is where the colonial administrators would build their vacation chalets and hunting lodges during the colonial period, while also killing off every cool animal possible (tigers, bears, deer…) according to our handy guide book. Unfortunately we had only budgeted to spend one day in Dalat, so we went on an 'Easyriders' motorcycle tour to see as much as possible in our short time available (Easyriders is like a brotherhood of elite motorcycle tour guides around here). Our guide Renee was really amazing - he spoke perfect French (side note: we have all been speaking more French here than we do in Quebec - comes in handy to consult each other while bargaining), and during the American war he was a commander for the South Vietnamese army in the area. He showed us reforested battle fields where he commanded troops in another life, including where helicopters would land to resupply his battle-weary forces. He also brought us to a massive waterfall, to a silk factory, and also off the beaten track a bit to a coffee farm, and to a group of ethnic minority women who hand-loomed silk scarves and other garments. One scarf takes a week on those things - unreal.

Another special thing happened during our stay in Dalat. That evening we decided it was time to capitulate to our protesting internal organs, which had initiated a steadily escalating campaign of violence against us in retribution for the steady influx of foreign street food, and get our first western dinner of the trip. Jarred pasta sauce, frozen steak and garlic bread never tasted so good! We flipped out about it.

VinPearl

Nha Trang was another Vietnamese anomaly. We spent our day here on a random trip to VinPearl, "Vietnam's premier water park" (???) with some American friends we had made. Nha Trang is pretty much geared only for beach bum tourists, so we felt confident that we weren't forfeiting anything of greater spiritual merit. Hilarious day! Turns out it is more than a water park, with fair rides, a roller coaster, bumper cars, an arcade and lots waterslides - AND the place was completely empty and everything was free once you are in! We slayed that park with fire - especially the bumper cars (spine jarring) - and the 6-person slide. Park attendants are lot less uptight in Nam, its great! Super good time. So western of us.

Suits, Cau Lao, Shinanigans

Photo of us with our tailors

After Nha Trang, we hopped a bus up to Hoi An. Hoi An is renowned for its tailors, and it was incredible to see the sheer number - literally hundreds of shops. There must be some sort of bizarre magnetism... Caution to the ladies: bump into us in Canada at your own risk, as we may be difficult to resist in our wicked new, fitted suits. I also got some sweet gold linen shorts and flashy purple slippers. Pure sex. We also discovered that the noodle dish of preference varies by region in Vietnam. Cau Lao is the local speciality here, and one of the best – thick egg noodles, pork, shrimp, peanuts and herbs, all for a dollar!

We spent a couple of days waiting for our suits to be completed, hanging out with segments of the Mui Ne posse. Let me tell you, low season in Hoi An is an amazing and perplexing place, particularly from the perspective of a young westerner. As the largest group of foreigners under 50 years old in the region (Hoi An generally seems to pull an older crowd looking to enjoy Indo-French cuisine), we were swarmed each night by local bar owners on motorbikes trying to coax us into visiting their establishments. Incredibly, they wanted us to come so they could offer us unlimited free rum, to provide free moto rides to and from their location, and they would be willing to open their bar specifically for us to make it all happen. All you need to do is buy one beer (approx expense 1.25$ Canadian). I still feel dumbfounded, and have not yet managed to wrap my head around the business model, although after tasting the rum I suspect that those of lesser fortitude or possessive of an aversion to turpentine-like substances might decline the second free shot of rum and opt to purchase more palatable beverages. They had no such luck with us. After a few eventful evenings, our suits were finished, and we planned to head up to the ancient imperial capital of Vietnam: Hue. However, unforeseen circumstances demanded a change of plans…

Curtis and I had just purchased our bus tickets, when an exhilarated looking Sebastien arrived on the scene with big eyes and a smile on his face. Apparently there was a local film being shot nearby, and they were looking for Western extras! We were a little bit sceptical, but Sebastien had arranged an interview, and after meeting for a beer with the casting agent we decided to go for it. The next morning we were on a bus with 15 other backpackers, destined to get famous!

MOVIE STARS!!!

Sure enough, the movie was real, and before we knew it we were in a small town outside of the village of Son My. The fictional premise of the film is that lieutenant Calley, the officer held responsible for the My Lai massacre, had returned to Vietnam to apologize and had meanwhile developed deeper understandings of the long terms impact of the war, his role in it, and the way in which the My Lai region had rebuilt and moved on. Not surprisingly, we were told that our role was to play the US soldiers who committed the massacre in a series of flashback scenes. Needless to say, we wandered if this was really a role with which we wanted to associate ourselves, but by the end of the filming we realised it was the most rewarding and thought-provoking part of our trip so far.

During our first afternoon in Son My, we were given a tour of the memorial devoted to the My Lai massacre. The massacre occurred during the Vietnam War, on March 16, 1968. Over the course of a single day-long incursion possibly more than 500 civilians were killed by US troops, the majority being children, women and elderly people. Many were alleged to have been beaten, raped or tortured. Initial US reports disputed these facts, but eventually a US estimate conceded that over 300 non-combatants were slaughtered, while the Vietnamese estimate puts it at 504. This event became famous later in 1969 when a military photographer sold photos which he had taken on his personal camera depicting the aftermath of the massacre to the press, sparking outrage and contributing to anti-war sentiment in the United States and elsewhere. The tour was sobering, as the state-sponsored museum spared no detail in depicting the brutality of the massacre.

Following our tour, the makeup staff set to transforming us from passive, free-ranging wanderers into the semblance of Vietnam-war era American GIs. Buzz cuts, shaves, camouflage uniforms, helmets, canteens, and M-16’s (equipped only to fire blanks) for everyone. The transition was striking, check out the group photos.

From there on, it was filming. Each day we were transported from our modest hotel by bus to the small hamlet of My Lai – basically comprised of rice fields and small clumps of tin-roof homes and a few stores. The war scene was shot in the re-built village, with an abundance of burning tire smoke and improvised pyrotechnics for realism (WD-40 cans wrapped in kerosene-soaked rags and set on fire). For each scene, we were selected in groups to head out amidst the plumes of black smoke to depict the atrocity in front of the cameras. It was a profoundly awkward thing. Two days previous we had been beach-bum travelers, and then all of a sudden we found ourselves dressed as American GIs chasing around local extras in the film that we had barely met (including cute, smiling children who would regularly break out into tears), and with whom we could barely communicate, all the while shouting obscenities and pretending to beat and shoot them.

However, elevating our inner moral discord to a striking climax was a small group of Vietnamese extras in particular: four of only eight remaining survivors of the Mai Lai massacre who had chosen to participate in the telling of their stories by acting in the film. It was truly inspiring to meet these women, and utterly discomfiting to appear before them naively dressed in the garb of their attempted killers. Each was over seventy five years old, and had only survived the events of that day by hiding under the bodies of their neighbours and loved ones.

I was overwhelmed with a realization of how different the meaning of this film was for my companions and I compared to these women who had lived out the real event. While being introduced to one of the survivors, I felt as though I was standing on a different planet from a person standing right beside me. I knew that, for her, what we were doing was real. It was her story, her home, her lifetime, and she lived with the cost of it. She showed me a scar in her abdomen where a rifle bullet had passed through. About forty two years previous, she had lost most of her family and friends in this place. For me on the other hand, the idea of participating in this film had just been an opportunity to acquire an interesting experience – a neat story to tell my friends when I got home. These women really changed that.

I became conscious of the fact that my companions and I also had a relationship to the story this film was telling, albeit abstractly and in a way we weren’t overtly aware of. As the first day of filming progressed, I noticed a slight but perceptible shift in our group demeanour. Instead of exchanging travelling stories or wondering where to find cheap drinks for the evening, the group lied in the shade of shrubs between film sequences, wiped sweat from our fore-heads, smoked cigarettes, examined our weapons, told jokes, and shared our snacks with the Vietnamese children who were participating in the film. By the second day of filming, it was as though our uniforms began to even feel more natural as we lounged around like a group of off-duty soldiers. But how and why, and of all places here, would we begin to get comfortable in these roles? To me, it seemed that we had begun to carry over what we knew (or thought we knew) about the Vietnam war, and to translate it into our dispositions. As we became more used to our surroundings, we reflected less about them, and there was a little bit more room for our cultural narrative to manifest itself. Forest Gump inhabited our consciousness.

But as we spent more time, the triviality of our understanding of our roles became increasingly obvious. In one scene that sticks out in my memory from the first day of filming, a group of us were required to corral a group of civilians into a corner, including one of the women who had survived the massacre, and to shoot her. She was wired with blood caplets for realism, and when the caplet was triggered, exploding with a bang and a squirt of red fluid, it was visible in her eyes that she had flashed back to the real event. She was panicked, and I felt terrible. With support from staff and friends, she quickly regained her composure, presumably from long practice. But the knot in my stomach remained. I had already felt out of place in my role, but the look in that woman’s eye in that moment took it to a whole new level. I realised I that I had absolutely no idea what I was participating in here.

This feeling carried over, and I perpetually felt squished between two realities. Although I had no personal history with the Vietnam War, I had come to realize that my consciousness was permeated with a cultural reality that had been built around it. This history focussed on the horror and guilt associated with war from the perspectives of American soldiers, on the political processes that led to their deployment, and on the impact the war and the anti-war movement had on the complex weave of the western social fabric. In this history, complexity was afforded to the veterans’ psyches, to political manoeuvring, and to western social phenomena, but not to the majority of those most affected by the war. That was the history I knew. Of course I knew there was human suffering, but it never had a shape and a will in my mind. But this soon changed as well.

One moment in particular changed the way I thought about the whole thing. Whenever I participated in filming a scene, I had apologized profusely to the Vietnamese extras that I was required to rough handle or yell at, even though they were participating by choice, and it was the director who was requiring us to make the film as realistic as possible. However, while helping up one of the women who had survived My Lai, I was in the midst of apologizing for my gruff treatment of her when she stopped me. She held my arm with both hands and said in Vietnamese “No. Thank you”. In that moment she released me from the history that I represented, and made a human connection. I could tell that she knew I was uncomfortable, and I realized she was thanking me for being involved so that she could make known another history. From that woman and the others who had survived the massacre, I learned a new human history; their story.

All three of us feel that that has probably been the most rewarding part of the trip so far. Personally, it has made me realize that culture plays a much larger role in my life than I thought, and it’s caused me to think a lot more about what I think I know, and about what human realities might be missing from that knowledge. Powerful stuff.

As a little side note, it was also powerful in another way. For one scene, while conducting a door-to-door search for Viet Cong fighters, my character was required to lob a grenade into a hut, killing everyone inside. While rehearsing my sequence, I had removed one of the two prop grenades strapped to my chest, and unbent the pin. With my finger braced inside of the pin-ring, I was testing the resistance to ensure I didn't boggle the thing on film, when I heard a terrified scream. Looking up, I saw a wide-eyed, pale-faced costume staff running in my direction shouting “NO PULL! NO PULL! Boom Boom!” I carefully withdrew my finger as I felt my knees weaken under me. Gulp. As it turns out, live grenades on loan from the military are cheaper than bought props. I tried to imagine a circumstance in Canada when I would unknowingly have a live grenade strapped to my chest. I spent some time contemplating death, fate and the meaning of life as the rest of the Western cast henceforth handled the butts of their M-16s somewhat more gingerly to prevent contact with the grenades strapped to their own chests. Unreal…

For those of you interested, the film is called 'Letters from Son My' and the Director hopes that it will be shown at the Cannes Film Festival this coming spring (our names in the credits!!!). It should be released officially in September (in Vietnamese only unfortunately).

Once filming was completed, the director treated us and the film crew to a big dinner and party, featuring loads of Karaoke. Man, the Vietnamese went all out with the singing, it was hilarious!

A pre-Tet celebration with Hue's Family

After all of our trudging through rice paddies in GI gear was finished, the lady who recruited us for the film invited us back to her house to visit with her family for the beginning of Tet - the lunar new year celebration in Vietnam.. It was a super cool experience! Her family lives way out in a small country village - her dad is a war vet for the Viet Minh communists in the north, but now they grow rice. As soon as we arrived he sat us down on a straw mat for lunch of chicken from their back yard, pork and greens. And then he pulled out his home made rice wine... It is considered impolite not to drink when the host does, so before we knew it we had polished off a litre of the stuff by 2 pm (its not really wine - its more like hard liquor). We were a tad tipsy and politely retreated for a nap.

Later in the day, a bunch of her brothers and sisters showed up for dinner, and we got to chat with them a bit with our friends as a translater. They were sooo hospitable and it was a really neat insight into vietnamese culture. We had wanted to help out with dinner so earlier on I hopped on a motorbike with our friends brother to pick something up. As he spoke no English whatsoever, I ended up in a meat shop and the next thing I know I had unknowingly bought about 2 pounds of dog meat, a duck, and a bunch of something else to contribute. We had our meal sitting cross legged on a straw mat on the floor, men and women seated separately. The men and guests eat only meat because it is a show of status (even though they clearly couldnt afford it on a regular basis). And of course, her dad served up a full litre bottle of his home made rice wine (think rice water mixed with kerosene). We spent the remaining time walking around her home town (lots of rice paddies) and meeting neighbours and relatives. We slept on straw mats on concrete.

The following morning we had breakfast (yes, with rice wine again - we had never been tipsy at 9 am until Vietnam) and then hopped a bus to Halong City. Our visit was such a super cool experience overall - one of the best so far!

Rockcliming on Cat Ba!

Now we are on Cat Ba island in Halong bay (it is AMAZINGLY beautiful here) its all limestone stone spires jutting out of the ocean for miles. we booked a rock climbing trip today (for moms: with a super safe, legit company run by pro climbers from the states) and it was unreal. We plan to get in another day of climbing, and hope a 5$ tour to an island covered in endangered monkeys. Apparently their is no shortage of them on this island though: we saw some pictures taken by one of the guys we met here of the monkeys chasing a tourist down the beach. The poor guy was running for his life while the monkeys were grabbing onto his ankles while he kicked them off - it was hilarious! I guess they have gotten kind of bold with the tourist traffic here..

After this we are off to Hanoi, then the Northern Highland of Vietnam into Sapa and Dien Bien Phu! I love my life right now!

Thanks for reading

UPDATED - PICs

2010-01-19T04:14:00.000-08:00

We have finally gotten our hands on a computer capable of uploading photos. In case you are wondering about the food pics - one of them is Button eating a whole half-sized chicken boiled up in a pot, and the other is Curtis and I taking a big bite of Ox Penis. YUM! We lots to write about since last blog, but it is bedtime now, so it'll have to wait.

It's been about a week since our last blog, and some big things have happened. We'll hit you with the highlights below:

Bia Hoi and New Friends
We spent a couple of days in downtown Ho Chi Minh city, and met some really cool people over Bia Hoi in the evenings (draft beer served to you in 1L jugs for 60 cents in pre-school sized patio chairs). We made pals with some people from Australia, Sweden and the USA. Really fun meeting and learning from fellow travelers.

Cu Chi Tunnels
During our last day in HCMC we visited the Cu Chi tunnels - the tunnels the Viet Cong guerillas in South Vietnam lived and fought from against the Americans during the war. Even though we rolled up in a tour bus, it was a really powerful experience. Reading more about the Vietnam war, I have been learning a lot about how brutal that war really was: the tonnage of bombs dropped on Vietnam from 1968 to 1975 was more than 8 times the total dropped in all of WW2. More than 2.5 million Vietnamese were killed in the attempt to break support for the Viet Cong. In this context, it is amazing to see how these people persevered and resisted against the world's strongest power for years on end. The three of us were the first in our group to muster the courage to squeeze (barely) into the (enlarged) portion of the tunnels that tourists can crawl through. It was a creepy and claustrophobic experience; cramped in pitch black with bats flying around our heads as we crawled through about 30 feet of winding tunnel.

More generally our visit to Cu Chi, and reading about the Vietnam war, has led me to think a lot more about power, injustice and our responsibility as citizens. It feels strange to me that the war ended primarily due to public opinion in the US. Just by being born in North America, the sum total of the opinions of all the average Joes buying burgers at MacDonalds had the power to decide when people in Vietnam would stop having their houses bombed. It seems strikingly unjust that we are born into that kind of power. Who am I that my opinion (or lack thereof) should carry that kind of judgement? It seems really messed up. My personal belief is that I don't want to have power over anyone else in life, but as I think more I realize how naive that is in our world. As a citizen of a powerful country I have power whether I like it or not - its not even possible to give it away. So finally, I have been thinking about how its super important that we don't pretend what our lives matter only in our own worlds. I feel it is really important to learn and think about the things that our government does under the pretense democratic representation so that we can register our dissent where appropriate, or do something at least.

SCUBA and Phu Quoc
On a somewhat lighter note, following our visit to Cu Chi we headed off to Phu Quoc Island for some beach and to become real SCUBA divers. We caught the overnight bus from HCMC and arrived in Rach Gia (where the ferry leaves from) at 3:45 am. We thought we would be able to catch some sleep on a park bench by the ferry docks: super wrong we were. At 4:30 am, a loudspeaker attached to a telephone pole across the street started blaring weird tinny melodies with intermittent narration in high-pitched Vietnamese at really high volume. It was really bad to hear it, and we couldn't figure out why anyone would install something like that to torment the community. (turns out it is an state-sponsored audio wake-up work-out track for the locals to do their exercises with - or so we were told). Sleep didn't really happen, but we got there.

Upon arrival in Phu Quoc, we became reflective about the merits of planning and preparation in life and traveling. We had nothing but the address of our SCUBA shop, but not an inkling of where to stay and it initially looked like everything was booked up in high season. Fortunately the staff at Rainbow Divers is well hooked up and they really helped us out.

After that, the last five days have been super unreal. In the first two days we did our book work and pool dives for the Scuba course. But for the last three days it has been early mornings, hopping on a boat a diving in the ocean all day. Really great! SCUBA is such a cool thing to do. On top of all of the cool things you can see down there, it is the only time in life that you are free to move freely and effortlessly in all three dimensions. When you are neutrally bouyant underwater, up and down are almost the same as left and right. Its a super neat feeling.

Melvin
On our last day in HCMC we really hit it off with someone very special in all of our lives: Melvin. As soon as we met him in the Market we knew it was meant to be, and the four of us were completely inseparable. Melvin traveled with us everywhere and played with us all the time. We even told him all of our deepest secrets. Unfortunately, tragedy recently struck our new friend. Yesterday we were doing a species identification project dive for our SCUBA class, and we took Melvin along with us - intending to hide him by a reef and introduce our instructor to this odd new form of marine life (in case you haven't caught on, Melvin is the stuffed sheep you see in the pictures). Unfortunately, the depth was too much for Melvin, and he chose to conduct an emergency buoyant ascent to the surface of the ocean in the midst of a strong current. He floated. While we were unable to recover our woolly comrade, he will always hold a special place in our hearts.

Sea Monster
It turns out that Sea Monsters are indigenous to Vietnam, and frequently beach themselves seeking the affection of tourists. They are total saps, and particularly fond of pats from babes. We didn't know this at first, and when we encountered our first specimen we naturally kept our distance. Luckily Melvin spoke monsta, and was able to communicate with Charles (that was the Sea Monsters name) and convey his good intentions to us. After that, we all got a photo together and talked about life.

Street Food
IN Phu Quoc, we found the best street food place yet! Super delicious, and we made best buds with the people who ran it. For under a dollar this lady gave us enough food to be actually full (not an easy feat in Asia). Extra included joking with and learning Vietnamese from her husband while he tried to marry us off to his daughters (we decided that for the sake of diplomacy we would pretend to all have long term relationships in Canada). We also got to speak with their parrot who mimicked our laugh after shreeking hello at us.

Now we are off to catch a ferry to the Mekong Delta (literally in about 15 minutes)!! We have some photos to post, but we'll have to upload them tomorrow...

Good Morning Vietnam

2010-01-11T03:06:00.000-08:00

The last week has been fully surreal; taking us from freezing cold Canada into the hot hustle and bustle of sprawling Ho Chi Minh City. Leaving on the 6th at 4 am we spent nearly two full days in transit by car from Ottawa to Syracuse, Greyhound bus to New York City, Subway to JFK Airport, and then a 24 hour flight of eternal night to Ho Chi Minh with stops in Alaska and Taipei. January 7 was unique - with the international date line, it never happened. Button didn't notice though, he was in a gravol-induced coma (Jacob ate his cheesecake). All the while we have lugged around our backpacks and 3 massive bags stuffed with wheelchairs generously provided by Humanitarian Mobility International for the Christina Noble Foundation in HCMC. Got quite a few looks hauling all that around the NY subway system.

Our first hotel in HCMC was outside of the city center, and for 2 days we never saw a single foreigner. While it was at times a bit overwhelming, in retrospect we wouldnt have had it any other way. Our first meal was a game of vietnamese roulette as we randomly pointed to items on the all-vietnamese menu to a bemused waitress who treated us gently but seemed on the verge of laughter throughout the whole ordeal. Button's chopstick skills were a highlight for her. The table next to us didn't hold back though. We are getting used to being laughed; on the street it has not been uncommon for people to gesture towards us and chuckle with their companions. Special points of interest have been our long hair (considered strange and artsy), and tall frames. Sometimes I think I am particularly singled out for my my beard (they can't grow them), tattoos (associated with maphia) and pink shoes (what?).

Our relative seclusion from fellow foreigners has been a total plus though. We have been learning some basic Vietnamese much quicker than we would have otherwise. Over breakfast, Louis, the 8-year-old son of our hotel owner, has been particularly helpful, though we hear him and the maids having a good laugh after we try to practice with them. Our first hotel had also come to feel a bit like home in Vietnam, even though we were only there for 3 days. We had a regular spot for delicious iced coffee, we ate Pho for breakfast and afternoon snack at 'our' Pho spot, and got to know the staff at our hotel pretty well. The hotel owner also introduced us to a local restaurant serving Dog meat. It was a tad grizzly, but totally tasty. We tried not to think about Shminky or Hoover.

After a day and a half of recovering from jet lag, we started to explore HCMC. The War Remnants museum was particularly impacting for all of us. It was illuminating to see the (American) war presented from a Vietnamese perspective, while the raw brutality of the war was conveyed graphically in the exibits. It was very hard to look at, but left a real impression and we each took away a lot from it. On a lighter note we spent half a day rock climbing at a sports center in the downtown area to stay prepped for our future deep water solo climbing adventures in the North. Also getting familiar with local street food where we can eat lunch for about 60 cents, served on nearly every street corner. We must look pretty funny as all three of us sit there squatting on the tiny plastic chairs provided with our ears between our knees enjoying lunch with the local construction crews.

Our time apart from tourists, expats, and aggressive street vendors has been pleasant, but ends today. On the way to our new hotel in the center of the backpacker hub, we headed over to the Childrens Foundation to deliver the Wheelchairs. I think for all of us this has been the highlight of our trip so far. Completely humbling and rewarding to see how so little of our time can be so influential in someone elses lives. It was pretty special to see how quickly one of the girls learned to wheel herself around, and how excited she was about it. Special thank you again to Humanitarian Mobility International for Donating the chairs, and to Charity Begins for putting us in touch with the Christina Noble Children's Foundation.

Tomorrow we are heading off to visit the Cu Chi tunnels, where the Viet Minh evaded and resisted the Americans throughout the Vietnam war. After that, we are catching an overnight bus and ferry to Phu Quoc Island where we will do our SCUBA course and get in some beach time.

Mission #1: Operation Guilty Concience

2009-12-06T08:03:00.000-08:00

Probably slightly out of guilt at the prospect of selfishly passing several months without contributing any discernible benefit to human kind, we decided a few weeks ago to see if we could use our excess luggage space to transport any needed items to a charity in Vietnam. After five minutes on Google, we encountered Charity Begins: a wicked organization operating out of NYC that offers willing travelers the opportunity to make a difference as charitable mules (if you check out the link you will note a mention of yours truly under "upcoming trips").

The staff at Charity Begins was extremely helpful, and contacted numerous worthy organizations operating in and around Ho Chi Minh City where we will be making our arrival. In the end, we were matched with the Christina Noble Children's Foundation. CNCF takes a really cool, holistic approach to providing underprivileged children with basic necessities throughout their development: healthcare, nutrition, education, vocational training etc. We're really pumped to get involved with this organization!

So here is our WASJ Mission #1: We've gotten in touch with CNCF and acquired a 'wish list' of items which they are in need of. Unfortunately, since our time in NYC is very brief, it is unlikely that we will be able to touch base with our friends at Charity Begins. So... we have decided to raise the items ourselves.

So really, this post has been our long way of saying, if anyone has any of the following items lying around (new, or in good used condition), we would LOVE to take them off your hands!

Here is the wish list:

· Clothes for all ages (specifically t-shirts, shorts and jeans)
· Some school items which include pencil cases and pencils (grey leads).
· We also would like to request note books. Not the generic school note books but the ones you can now get that are colorful and sometimes have themes for girls and boys, this will be for personal use as well as school.
· Bags are also something that is needed at the moment. Again this is more for personal use such as when the children go on excursions, so something like a over the shoulder bag would be great.

· And then if there is any room left we are always in need of soft toys.

Oh! Last thing! We will be hand delivering these items to the Foundation when we arrive, and we'll have the opportunity to spend some time volunteering with the kids! We'll post some pics so you can see the benefit of any items you donate.

If you do have some of this stuff, but don't have our contact info, you can email me at kuehn23@hotmail.com.

Welcome to the WASJ

2009-12-04T22:49:00.001-08:00

Hello all!

Soon my good friends Curtis, Sebastien and I will be embarking on our voyage to S.E. Asia for an indeterminate period of spiritual journeying, consuming of unusual ingestables, cheap booze, cultural awakening, and the allure of the unknown!

We invite you all to participate vicariously in our quest by following along on our sweet new blog. While you may not be able to enjoy the sunshine with us, you will be somewhat consoled to know that Sebastien - as Dictator-in-Chief of Culinary Affairs on this voyage - has decreed that we are to consume every variety of reasonably acquirable colorful local cuisine. This includes dogs, large spiders and chicken fetus. So if you find yourselves begrudging us for our pure-sex beach-bronzed tans, and happy-go-lucky gallivanting, remember, this trip isn't all fun and games.

For those of you who do not know, we are 33 days away from our departure when we will travel by greyhound to NYC on the overnight bus in time to hop our 25-hour Air China flight to Ho Chi Minh City. Thats about as far as we plan to plan. From there, we are at the whim of the wind; may it take us where it will.