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December 28, 2009

Hanoi

Yeah, I saw Ho Chi Minh's body
At the Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum complex, even the most normal behaviors are against the rules. Take walking on the sidewalk, for example. Or carrying a bottle of water. Or crossing your arms in the chill of an air-conditioned building. Don't walk too fast or too slow or a guard will appear beside you to model the appropriate pace. Sunglasses must be removed before entering the building.

Infractions are met by the sternest of expressions of a guard and usually some theatrics similar to reprimanding a dog or telling it to sit. When I walked on the sidewalk, the guard made dramatic motions with his arms and asked me to stand still on the corner. I had to wait there while dozens of tourists filed past me. Then, with a solemn nod of his head, he let me keep going. When I reached the mausoleum, a crowd of us waited until the guards emerged and lined the red path, one of which jumped out and escorted the line when the first person walked too fast. Once inside the room with Ho Chi Minh's eerily preserved body, I was reprimanded for having my arms crossed and another person was ushered along when they stopped walking to look. We were all treated like bad children reluctantly allowed the privledge to be there.

I couldn't wait to get the hell out of there. But first, I had to pick up my camera from the mandatory camera-check office.


"Hanoi Hilton"- Hoa Lo Prison
I walked through the Hoa Lo prison, learning of the poor conditions, torture techniques and political resistence born there during French rule. Although not extremely detailed, it was clear the Vietnamese political prisoners endured horrible conditions. Prisoners' legs were shackled to the floor and during isolation they had to eat, sleep and shit shackled to the same spot. Here is some artwork from the prison, outlining their struggle.


The prison has received a lot of attention in recent years because John McCain was held there as an American POW during the American War (or Vietnam War depending on where you are). Many war pilots were kept and tortured there. The exhibit dedicated to the American captives makes no mention of the hardship they experienced. Rather, it makes their time out to seem like summer camp- showing pictures of American pilots laughing in the classroom, playing soccer, celebrating Christmas and receiving souvenirs as they were released from imprisonment. There are pictures of John McCain being retrieved from the water after his plane crashed, in a hospital bed receiving medical care and visiting the prison a few years ago. A sign explains that they made every effort to make the prisoners' stay comfortable, despite limited funds. A quick read on Wikipedia gives a different perspective. It states the prisoners were tortured into making false statements regarding the quality of conditions in the prison and their dissent for American involvement in the war. As you can imagine, POWs in Hoa Lo suffered extreme torture techniques and were often refused medical care.

Pedestrians never have the right of way
Many things are located within manageable walking distance to the Old Quarter where I stayed. But I can't say it's easy to walk anywhere in Hanoi. Even if you have a green pedestrian light, you have to navigate an onslaught of motorbikes coming from every direction. The only way to cross is to wait for a slight break in traffic and step out slowly. Motorbikes might honk at you to let you know where they are. Or it might appear they don't notice you at all. I don't know exactly how it works, but even if it looks like they're going to run right into you, they manage to swerve around, sometimes only missing by a few inches.

Motorbikes are the most common form of transport (Vespas are really popular). Entire families will crowd on to one, with children in the very front or back. Children never seem to wear helmets, even if their parents do. People carry stacks of boxes, unprotected panes of glass and huge sacks of vegetables. They drive on sidewalks, through crowded street markets and on the wrong side of the road. They run red lights and swerve around each other to get where they need to go. Often the sidewalks are blocked by parked motorbikes, making it necessary to walk in the street. And most annoyingly, every 100 meters or so, a motorbike taxi driver calls out "Hey, motorbike?" Sometimes they get aggressive ("Hey! Madam! HEY!"), grabbing your arm or riding beside you down the street.

mmmm, food
Popular breakfasts include pho (noodle soup), baguette sandwiches with omlets, and fried tofu with vermicelli cakes dipped in sauce. There are plenty of good restaurants here, most of them out of my budget. I enjoyed lovely meals at the vegetarian restaurant, that made things like ginger "chicken" and pepper "beef" and standards like tofu with tomato sauce and sauteed mustard greens. I've had yummy fresh spring rolls, snapper in white wine sauce and plenty of perfect pineapple and steamed sweet potatoes from the streets. A lady down the street from my guesthouse serves a delicious street buffet lunch and dinner for 50 cents.

Hoan Kiem Lake
In the heart of the Old Quarter...



Temple of Literature
At the Temple of Literature, I was treated to a free performance of traditional instruments, including a bamboo xylophone that's played by clapping the hands at the mouth of each tube. Below, the woman strikes a bamboo instrument with mallets.

Next stop is Hue. If you missed the first days in Vietnam, click HERE.


December 27, 2009

Ninh Binh

Before hitting the chaos of Hanoi, I decided to stop in smaller Ninh Binh for biking and boating. I biked outside of town to Tam Coc, a beautiful oasis of flooded rice fields, jutting limestone peaks and low-ceilinged caves to float through. I took a 2-hour boat tour and saw colorful birds, locals fishing and the embroidery work of the woman rowing our boat.




Water Cave

Afterward, I biked to a cave pagoda and had tea with a man that spoke no English.

Also in Ninh Binh, I biked out to Hoa Lu the old capital dating back to 968. It was a tourist trap, but the bike ride was beautiful. I stopped at a quite pagoda on the way.
To read about my last days in Laos, click HERE.

December 21, 2009

Final Week in Laos

Muang Kham
I arrived in Muang Kham early enough to keep going to the hot springs, but decided to check out the tiny town instead. I walked over to the market and bought a sarong for the hot springs (modesty is encouraged). I was the only white person in town, and people make no efforts to hide their stares or laughs. I know they spoke about me when they said "falang." I sat at a picnic table in front of my guesthouse (the only guesthouse) and made sushi out of seasoned riverweed and sticky rice. I bought two hard-boiled eggs at the market, but found baby chickens inside when I peeled them. Eww. A man came and stood over me, watching me write. He left and came back several times. I tried talking to him, but he just laughed nervously, shaking his head. Another man came up to see what was happening ("excuse me, what are you doing?"). I told him I was writing a story. More men crowded around listening to the conversation, but not understanding any of it. The men here always ask if I'm traveling alone, a fact I don't like drawing attention to (it's usually the second question after "where you from?"). Eventually, the first guy brought out a large gun (rifle maybe?) to show his neighbors. What with all the unwanted male attention, stares from the villagers and now a freakin' gun show, I decided to retire to my room for the afternoon, where I promptly broke out into a solitary dance party.

Nam Horn Hot Springs
The next day, I took a sangthaew to Nam Horn hotsprings, 18km east of Muang Kham. The driver dropped me off at what appeared to be an abandoned resort. I motioned like I was sleeping on my hands, to ask if there was a place to sleep there. He kept nodding his head, but I wasn't convinced. I panicked when I heard him start the engine and drive off- not a person in sight. I walked around the place and frowned at buildings that needed some major TLC. I met a cow grazing in the yard. Finally, I heard voices and followed them to a different place, thankfully the one I was looking for. They also spoke no English- a perfect way to practice my Lao and get creative with hand gestures. A little boy showed me to the hot spring, unfortunately too hot to swim in. My bathroom had hot spring water pumped into the bathtub, but it somehow was only lukewarm by the time it reached my tub. A hot bath was the only reason I went to the trouble to get out there, so I was a bit disappointed. It was nevertheless a beautiful spot to spend a night. The next morning, I asked how to get back to Muang Kham. They laughed (after deciphering my Lao) and told me there are no buses. I gulped. Eighteen kilometers seemed like a long way to go with a rucksack. Finally, I understood that I needed to walk 5km to the main road where I could catch a sangthaew. I didn't find any sangthaew, but hitched a ride in the back of a truck with a bunch of guys. One spoke English and sure enough, the second question was "are you alone?" They thought it funny I was hitchhiking and suggested I rent a motorbike next time I'm in Laos. They laughed at my pronunciation of foe (noodle soup) and kept asking if I was cold (I was).

Sam Neua and Vieng Xai War Caves
After surviving a 10-hour bus ride, at the speed of approximately 30 km/hr (18m/hr), I landed in the provincial capital called Sam Neua. I met some French and American travelers on the bus and we made our way to the Vieng Xai war caves the next day along with a Polish couple and a crazy Korean guy. Vieng Xai is a small town surrounded by lakes and limestone peaks. During the Secret War, the Pathet Lao forces hid their leaders and troops in a series of caves. We took a guided tour through 5 caves, seeing bedrooms, emergency lock-down rooms with air ventilation systems, kitchens, theaters for entertainment and large holding rooms for troops and equipment. We learned about how the villagers and fighters lived for 9 years. Some of the original furniture still remained and each room was marked with a sign to denote the exact purpose. Some of the caves were natural and others were made by dynamite.The red flowers you see here are meant to represent blood and can be used to strengthen a woman after giving birth. They have been planted on many of the grounds of the caves. Poinsettia trees were also in full bloom. Some of the leaders built homes outside the caves they lived in, once the war was over. One even turned a bomb crater into a swimming pool.

When we arrived back in Sam Neua (after a freezing cold tuk-tuk ride), we walked to the food market, where some witnessed the butchering of a huge guinnea pig like animal (others of us turned our heads). We saw the animal on skewers a little further down the street, as well as live and grilled frogs for sale. We ate at a noodle soup stand before retiring early.

The Polish couple and I caught a bus to Vietnam- a 10 hour ride with no heat and windows that jiggled open along the way, letting the cold air in. My butt and feet were numb most of the way and a Vietnamese guy fell asleep on my shoulder. Finally, we made it to the town of Than Hoa, a loud and busy place not accustomed to tourists.

To learn about UXO (unexploded ordnance) and the US Secret War, click HERE.

Deadly Leftovers

Phonsavanh lies in one of the most heavily bombed provinces during the US Secret War. While the Vietnam War got lots of attention, it took years before anyone found out about the simultaneous war efforts in Laos. Supposedly, Congress was not even aware of the military activity in Laos. Just 2 years prior to the bombing campaign, the US signed the Geneva Accord, which designated Laos as a neutral country and off-limits to military aggression. When troops began pulling out of Vietnam, the war planes turned their attention to Laos, joining those already making Laos the heaviest bombed country, per capita, in the world. The bombs were used to attack the communist forces in the North of Laos and against Vietnamese soldiers in the south of Laos who used the Ho Chi Minh trail to smuggle soldiers and goods from N to S Vietnam. Lao civilians hid in caves, fled as refugees to Vientiane or died. Even some the caves were bombed eventually.

The most commonly used bomb was the cluster bomb, a small round ball about the size of a tennis ball. Large casings containing close to 700 cluster bombs were dropped from planes. The cluster bombs would open midair and shoot out 300 ball-bearing shrapnel that was designed to kill, not damage equipment or military facilities. They were called "anti-personnel" bombs. Up to 30% of the bombs did not explode and still lay active in the landscape of Laos. This amounts to millions of bombs scattered over Laos, and can mean thousands hide in one area alone.

Bomb clearing is painstakingly slow and the US contributes paltry sums to help in the clearing efforts. Despite strong efforts in schools to educate children about bombs, the lure of money for the family or the excitement of a new toy often gets the better of them. In recent years, half of UXO (unexploded ordnance) injuries or casualties have been children. In "Bomb Harvest," a documentary, small children come across bombs in the woods and carefully dig them out. They don't want to play with them, like some children, but want to sell them to help their parents. Scrap metal has become the new cash crop for families who cannot get by on subsistence farming. Because villages are surrounded by so many bombs, people are scared to expand fields and often don't have enough food to last the year. Some farmers continue to farm land, despite encountering several bombs in their fields each plow season. Even well-used roads, schoolyards and backyards can have large warheads lurking just below the surface. A strike of a shovel is often all that's needed to set off a deadly explosion. For those who survive, they obtain medical attention in facilities without running water or electricity. Often, amputation is the only option to save their life.

In addition to selling the bombs as scrap metal, many people have become rather clever with ways to re-use the wreckage from the war. Bomb casings are used for benches, fire pitts, herb gardens, and stilts for homes. Pineapple bombs are used for lamps. Shell casings are stuck in the ground over a fire to hold cookware. Metal is melted down and shaped into weapons and cookware.
Although the statistics vary slightly, the common numbers seem to be that over 2 million tons of bombs were dropped on Laos over a 9 year period, between 1964 and 1973. The population at the time was somewhere between 1 and 2.5 million, meaning that 1-2 tons of bombs were dropped for every person.

If you missed my account of Luang Prabang, World Heritage city, click HERE.

December 16, 2009

Luang Prabang


By far the biggest city I visited in Laos, the Unesco World Heritage city is home to 50,000 people. I spent a week in Luang Prabang, grateful for modern comforts such as hot water, electricity and ATMs. I climbed to the top of Phu Si hill where I checked out views of the Mekong and Nam Khan Rivers, admired the hilltop temple and looked curiously at Buddha's very own footprint.
Temples are scattered all over the city and my guesthouse sat directly opposite one, making my room a front row seat to the 4am drum session given by monks each morning (I assume it's a wake up call- quite effective I can testify). At dawn devotees line the sidewalks, sitting on mats and waiting with baskets full of sticky rice. A line of orang-robed monks walks along, accepting rice, flowers and other offerings. It's a beautiful site, but the monks looked bored and ungrateful for the eagerness and excitement displayed by the early-risers.

I rented a bicycle and rode out to a big covered-market, buying fabric for a sewing project. At night, the main street closes to traffic to allow for the sprawling Hmong hill-tribe market. They sell brightly patterned clothes, hand-made slippers & stuffed animals, paintings on mulberry paper, Lao coffee and tea and jewelry. Further down, a food market comes to life around 5pm, selling grilled fish and chicken, papaya salad, noodle soup and Mekong riverweed (like nori with sesame seeds, dried tomatoes & garlic), sweets and nuts. I was excited to find a vegetarian street buffet for 50 cents a plate. A friend from the Netherlands, Sophie, and I went out for lao lao- rice whiskey that's supposedly illegal, yet openly sold in bars and restaurants everywhere. It tastes strong with a nutty aftertaste.

Walking the streets was easily the best part. Evidence of French occupation is immediatly apparent in the architechture. Landscaping is beautiful with flowering trees everywhere. The town reminded me of New Orleans (minus the size, the test-tube jagermeister shots and the mardi gras beads).

I took an 8 hour bus ride to Phonsavanh, known for the mysterious Plain of Jars and war history.

To read about my first experiences in Laos, click HERE.

December 10, 2009

This is Laos

After crossing the Mekong into Laos, I was immediately aware how poor Laos is compared to neighboring Thailand. I shared a tuk-tuk with a family transporting huge sacks of food. A small girl with a disheveled ponytail wore a baggy, dirt-covered sweatshirt with the words "i love you" written all over it. Boils covered her tiny hands. A five hour bus ride (see A word on Lao buses) took me to the provincial capital of Luang Nam Tha. Don't let the word "capital" fool you. Aside from a couple of paved roads, and a string of guesthouses and restaurants, this village is just like any other. Dusty red-dirt roads lead to stupas on hills and roosters provide alarm clocks (once they even started before I fell asleep at midnight). It was a wonderful introduction to Laos. I ate curry noodle soup at the night market, climbed up a hill to a stupa overlooking the area (where the sweetest temple man smiled and took a blurry picture)...
... and rode a cruiser bicycle with a basket along dirt/rock roads to a waterfall. The ride took me through rice fields, bamboo shack villages with naked kids and baby pigs running around, and winding mountain views.

The waterfall itself was nothing much, but a peaceful place to hike and enjoy the quiet woods. I'm surprised that I didn't get a flat tire (or whiplash) from the extraordinarily bumpy ride, but I enjoyed it all the same. My room was modern and comfortable with hot water and HBO. I sniffed out the herbal steam sauna and treated myself to a massage. The sauna smelled strongly of lemongrass.

Next stop was a small village called Nong Khiaw set on the banks of the Nam Ou River. I settled into a riverfront bungalow and marveled at the limestone peaks jutting up in all directions.

I took a bike to nearby caves that used to serve as a bank during the US secret war. I met an American there who was kind enough to share his torch. We weaved through narrow passageways and laughed when we saw the sign for the financial office, tucked down a small "hallway" with a low ceiling and walls we could only enter sideways. Some girls joined me in one of the caves and had fun taking blurry pictures with my camera (notice a theme here?).



At my guesthouse, a woman was weaving a shawl. She said each piece takes her about 4 days to make. Here she is at work- I really admire her patience.
A supposed one-hour boat ride north of Nong Khiaw takes you to an even more remote village called Muang Noi. The journey took closer to 2 1/2 hours, partly because we had to get out and walk at least a mile of the way due to strong rapids. It was a proper hike through forests and sandy banks. Again, I cursed my flip-flops as I tripped on roots and almost lost one when my leg sank down into the mud. Muang Noi is also perched on the river, and guesthouses boast fantastic views. I stayed at Banana's bungalows, run by an eccentric woman who goes by "Mama." I got the last of three bungalows and enjoyed Mama's home-cooking on my porch while admiring the scenery.
We only had electricity from 6-9:30pm each night (generator run). As the sun set, I could see locals bathing and doing laundry in the river below. During the day, they conduct business on wooden canoes, using a bamboo pole to push them along. The people work really hard; often I see children carrying heavy loads on their backs, holding the strap with their forehead. Women seem to do more manual labor than men.
I walked through a fairy-like forest to a couple of caves, and continued on through rice fields and tiny villages. Butterflies and dragonflies flitted around me the entire way.

I was pleased to find an herbal sauna with a hot bucket shower. The villages around this area supply cold river water for bucket showers. Although the days get hot, mornings and evenings are chilly, so hot showers are most welcome.

Lao cuisine
Although you can sometimes find Thai standards, Lao cuisine is distinctly different from Thai food. Most dishes are served with a wicker basket of sticky rice. It's eaten with the hands by grabbing a chunk, forming it into a ball and dipping it in the food. It is ever-so addictive! Noodle soup is another mainstay and is seasoned by pouring in your own cocktail of soy sauce, fish sauce, chilies and sugar. Kao Soi is a clear broth with fermented soy or pork paste, mixed in with dark greens such as morning glory, onions, sprouts and noodles. Another popular dish consists of fish or meat ground into a paste with herbs and steamed in a banana leaf. A restaurant in Muang Noi concocted falang (foreigner) rolls, which although not authentic Lao food, pleased me all the same. Like a sushi roll, it's sticky rice wrapped around banana, honey and peanut butter topped with sesame seeds. Like in Thailand, Lao people eat with a large spoon, pushing the food onto it with a fork. Chopsticks are used for noodle soup.
After a week in small villages, I was ready for a taste of city life. I took a bus to Luang Prabang, an Unesco World Heritage site and home to plenty of temples and French architecture. More to come...