Back Home and Processing

What a couple of weeks it's been.

I'm feeling the effects of a 36 hour Monday and only 4 hours of sleep now. This is going to be just like the first night in Saigon when I totally died in bed at 5 p.m.. Before I do, I'll try to get down some of the things going through my mind today and the people I've talked to so far on my continuing quest to reconnect with Asia.

Not to evoke cliché, but it does all feel like a dream. I've always felt some kind of magical connection with speaking languages other than English, starting with a one month trip to Spain the summer after high school graduation.

Until then I didn't really think I was that much of a linguist. I had forgotten all my Taiwanese and Mandarin just a few years after we returned to the US. Then I took high school Spanish which involved vocabulary tests and other tedium resulting in a lot of mediocre "C"s and "B"s.

I had a real talent for English, though, and worked in student journalism eventually landing the co-editor position at the Bismarck High School High Herald my senior year. Man, I sucked at that! I've never seen my parents more upset and disappointed in me. Everyone including me knew I was smarter than that but I just didn't want to do it.

Finally, high school was over and I had the one month trip to Spain all planned out. Mom coordinated a foreign exchange program called Nacel and that was the organization I went through for the trip.

I fancied myself a world traveler already at that age. Hey, I lived in Taiwan as a kid, so Spain should be no big deal, right? On the plane ride over I puffed myself up with all sorts of snobbish pride in my superior internationalism. What I discovered in Spain was extraordinary, though.

It was so foreign. Everything there was unfamiliar from the people to the cars to the smells and even the dirt. The damn dirt didn't look like anything I'd seen, for cryin' out loud! So much for Chris the World Traveler; I was dumbfounded by terra incognita in the most literal way.

The language was also a major challenge for the first week or two. There goes another shot to my ego: ooh, I could speak Chinese as a kid, Spanish will be like faking a British accent ... if only these damn Spaniards would slow down and annunciate for a second, maybe I could understand them!

By the end of the month, though, I was rockin' the fluency. My vocabulary needed a lot of fleshing out and my comprehension still sucked but man could I roll my double "r"s and hit the vowels with perfect pitch like a newly-tuned guitar. I perused a minor in Spanish in college only to find more boring, book-learning tedium. My vocabulary improved, but of what use is Spanish, anyway?

I considered a degree in linguistics, still under the illusion that somewhere in me was an amazing multi-lingual superhero just waiting to be unleashed. I took a whole year of French and then lost interest. I did learn more French speaking with the exchange students that came to North Dakota through Mom's Nacel program, though. That was fun.

Once I finally moved out of my parents house to go to Moorhead State University in Moorhead, MN I discovered they had Mandarin classes. Cool! Here was my chance to redeem myself! All I had to do was start taking Mandarin classes and one night my brain would go "snap!" and I'd be fluent again because it would all just come back to me; easy as that.

Two years later I proved, again, that I could get the tones and pronunciation right, but that mind-numbing tedium of book-learned vocabulary bit me in the ass once more.

I graduated, entered the working world and every now and then mentioned that I spoke Spanish, French and Chinese in descending order of proficiency on job applications. I took a couple Spanish-speaking calls when I worked customer service at Digital River, but that's all my tedious years of quadralingual education got me.

I floundered. Worked as a Web programmer and found it all even more tedious than vocabulary tests. I got in trouble for slacking off on the job, came close to getting fired a couple of times and then finally snapped myself out of it and got help.

About a year ago exactly I started working for WUGNET Publications, a very small company based out of Media, PA. They're a work-from-home operation and that's what I do now: general operations management of Web sites, mail servers, RSS feeds and anything else techie. It's a great job and I love it.

The job allows a great deal of flexibility, as you can imagine. One of the results of that flexibility was being able to join Reese on this trip to Viet Nam. Just take the laptop with me and I can work wherever there's a wireless coffee shop. Next time around there are some technical glitches I want to work out such as making my cell phone compatible with the Asian network, but all-in-all it worked out pretty well.

This trip was supposed to be a fun getaway with the wife and an opportunity to discover a country few Americans know much about anymore. Mom kept asking me if I was going to try to learn any Vietnamese before the trip. I more or less dodged the question. No reason to get anyone’s hopes up about my language skills. As always, I’ll probably be able to pronounce things great, but without a fleshed-out vocabulary what good is it?

Plus, two weeks is far too short a time to learn anything more than “Hello,” “Good bye,” “Thank you” and “You’re welcome.” No, I was looking forward to feeling in Vietnam the same way I felt in Spain 15 years ago: totally foreign experience rife with culture shock.

I got over the culture shock after the first day. That’s when something new started happening: waves and waves of emotion and memory coming back to me. I hadn’t forgotten anything about Taiwan, mind you, I just didn’t think about it very much:

I only lived there for three years. The other 30 years of my life have been in America, so that’s 100% who I am: American. Sure, I’ve been places and studied languages. I’m even pretty good at it. Big deal; anybody can say “Ni hao” with the proper tones if they try.

All those defenses I’d had up for 27 years to protect myself from being teased by the other American kids started breaking down. My chest was no longer puffed up with the normal American ego façade. I started automatically holding my hands at my sides, bowing my head lightly at people and smiling more.

Until that point I kept bugging Ashley, the Vietnamese-American of our group, with “how do you say ‘good bye,’ again?” several times until I remembered it. Once I let go and opened up I started learning Vietnamese at an exponential rate. After a couple of days I was constantly at Phong’s ear, asking him how to say this or how to say that. A week into the trip I was desperately searching for English-Vietamese dictionaries or phrase books.

I finally got a phrase book the first morning in Ha Noi and hungrily flipped through it looking for nouns and verbs I lacked. I tried every new phrase or sentence out numerous times on any Vietnamese friendly enough to listen. I started constructing new sentences out of words, phrases and sentences I already knew.

The memories and emotions started hitting me like a typhoon. I sat and watched hours of Chinese TV, picking up words and phrases here and there and either remembering what they meant or recognizing them but not remembering the meaning.

About this time Tim noticed I was more quiet than normal. The first week I went out with he and some of the others to party and drink. Now I went to bed at a reasonable time, got up at the crack of dawn and buried my nose in my new little phrasebook.

I began to finally understand. On bus rides to tourist traps I’d watch women in conical hats harvest rice and choke back tears. Everywhere I looked something made me feel like a kid. A couple of times I fantasized about returning to Taiwan, visiting Hai Ou, having people recognize who I am and I’d have to stop for fear of crying like a baby in front of the rest of the tour group. I wandered the night market with Long and told him to only speak Vietnamese to me and felt my American self totally and magically disappear for an hour or two.

Then I spoke with Ashley and commiserated about her childhood as an Asian-American. She was teased as a kid for being different and now her friends and family in Viet Nam say she’s got a wall up around her all the time. She doesn’t open up like they do. Holy shit, can you blame her?

I told her I felt silly for saying so, but I knew exactly what she meant. I got teased for having a funny accent and speaking very little English in 1-3 grades. I did my 1st grade math homework in Chinese. “Hey, say something in Japanese!” kids often teased me. I made it worse by correcting them: “I speak Taiwanese, not Japanese!”

This coming from a kid with hair so bleached blonde from the Taiwan sun it was almost white.

Bottle it up. Don’t speak Taiwanese. Speak English so the girls will like you and the boys won’t beat you up. Put up a wall. Forget Taiwanese and Chinese. They don’t want that here.

I got so good at being American I forgot who I was. I believed what everyone else told me that being different was bad. Be just like everyone else. Don’t pronounce Spanish perfectly, screw it up. Don’t talk to that Asian co-worker about Asia, they’ll think you’re secretly racist and trying to cover it up. Don’t tell your white co-workers you lived in Taiwan or that you speak other languages, they’ll assume you’re being boastful or condescending. Act as nonchalant as possible when someone else outs your Taiwanese past. It’s not that interesting. No, I don’t think your childhood was boring compared to mine. I just lived there, who cares? Let’s talk about sports instead or the fucking weather. Let’s talk about anything, anything at all as long as we don’t talk about Taiwan. Please? Please stop!

Woah. OK. Back to writing after a cathartic, 5 minute cry that last paragraph envoked. Don’t know if I should continue from there or not. I just never realized how painful it’s been for me to feel so profoundly disconnected from what turns out to be a significant part of my childhood. These last two weeks I’ve felt more mature, purposeful, capable and connected than I can remember. I’ve also cried enough to make some employee of Kleenex very rich.

Two nights before we were due to fly back home I started feeling depressed. I fell in love with Viet Nam. I could smile at anyone on the street, nod and say “Xin chao” and expect the same in return. Things here were possible and when I spoke Vietnamese, bowed my head or lit a bundle of incense at the temple nobody looked at me funny. Nobody thought I was some pretentious westerner faking he’s Asian. One of the women at the juice and coffee bar at the Ha Noi hotel asked me if I lived in Saigon because of my accent.

When I tried to pray with a bundle of incense Saturday morning I had trouble getting the sticks lit. A middle-aged Vietnamese woman next to me gently grabbed my hand and pointed the sticks down into one of the flaming bits of paper. She spoke Vietnamese to me as if she knew I didn’t want to hear English. I responded with a very gracious “Cam u’n ngyun.” but quietly. Once they were lit she motioned for me to shake the flames out so the incense would smoke. I did so, thanked her again and walked slowly to the altar.

I held the bundle in the lotus position and prayed. All I said was “Thank you, xie xie, cam u’n …” two or three times and then stuck the bundle upright in the pot. I don’t remember the phrase in Taiwanese anymore but once I relearn I’ll be sure to add it to the prayer.

Then I sat and meditated by the lake. I just noticed words popping into my head and let them fall into an abyss. Some were English, some Mandarin and some Vietnamese. I’m a beginner when it comes to meditation, so I did it for maybe 5 minutes before deciding to move on. I walked slowly around the lake, hands held behind my back. I thought about an earlier wish, that I wanted to be buried in Hai Ou. I was so happy to think about that I almost teared up yet again.

I’ve never felt that way about dying before, just the bleak, existential pull to the abyss. For the first time I thought about dying, being laid to rest near the black sand beaches of Hai Ou, just over the dike near the new ICA building where the preschool used to be. For the first time I thought it’d be OK to die, and I’d be ready and happy to go and rest there. Things would be complete so I wouldn’t have to worry.

So, yes, I don’t mind saying it now. I’m an Asian-American. My name is Chris Druckenmiller and I am from Solen, ND where I learned to be sad. Wo jiao Teng Ke Wu hai who shi de Hai Ou, Taiwan zai wo gao xing.

This morning my parents told me that Ke Wu is a kid’s name. Apparently I’m overdue for a grown-up name.

Name Jokes

Just a quick post on something funny that happened one time back in Viet Nam:

One member of our group was named Georgia. She's still in-country, I believe, travelling with Nia. Man, I'm jealous!

Yet I digress ... I think it started with someone being all "cool" and calling her "Georgette."

Phong and Long overheard this and started laughing. Georgette sounds very close to a Vietnamese swear word that literally translates as "dead dog."

Later on I was telling them how funny it was to me that a name like "Georgette" would sound like a swear word to them because of all the cheesy, redneck-esque jokes in America about double entendre Asian names. You know: Long Dong, Hung Wel, Medong Hunglo and so on?

I explained to Long the meaning behind the English slang "Hung." He chuckled and then said, "No, in Vietnamese it means 'Hero.'"

"Oh!" I said, "So it means the same thing!"

We all got a great laugh out of that.

Hubris

Just wanted to write a bit about the change in attitude between America and Vietnam. Indeed, there's a change in attitude over time for myself and everyone else on the trip as we've been here.

Last week I taught Long the greeting "Sup, dude!" and the body language that went with it. I told him to tilt his head back while maintaining eye contact. He greets me every now and then by saying "Sup, dude!" and tilts his head way back but looks straight up; unable to make eye contact. He told me doing so would be far too aggressive.

Makes sense. The greeting is a way American men say to each other "Hey, I'm a tough, macho, stand-offish dude. If I smile too much or let down my guard you'll jump all over it." Here, it's the exact opposite: hands at your sides, bow lightly, smile and pleasantly say "Xin chao! Chao ban."

In Viet Nam, the first thing you do is let down your guard. Once you get to know someone, then you can get serious and talk and debate. In America, you put up your guard and only after you get to know someone do you open up and become friendly.

America is the worst place to meet people.

A couple days ago I posted about how angry some of the other Americans on the tour made me because of the attitude they copped here. My parents read this blog, of course, and Mom sent me an email saying I shouldn't be so hard on the others in the group. You can't blame them for feeling uncomfortable in such a foreighn place.

She's completely right, and if anything I was the one copping an attitude and acting superior. For that I feel pretty embarrassed.

Yesterday conversations between myself and the students were noticeably different. There was much more of the Vietnamese lack of hubris among us. I would make an observation about something, someone else would say they disagreed with my observation and I would very honestly and curiously ask them why. Then I'd listen to their reasons intently, give my very humbled reaction to their observations and they'd do likewise.

Rather than the standard American left vs. right debate everything degenerates to everyone more and more was engaging in a more open, explorative discussion. More and more we're letting go of our arrogance and accepting.

Perhaps that's why this country has pushed me over the edge toward Buddhism for good? The whole attitude here is Buddhist. It's OK to just let things happen, because that's how good is done. Stop trying to control everything and just let go.

Photo Innundation

Finally got a great connection here at a coffee shop in Ha Noi. So, here's a big collection of pictures from the past few days.



Tracy, Mandy and Nia at the marbleworks.



My beautiful wife.



My beautiful wife's photographic eye.



Cyclo in Hue.



"Xin chao!"



Iconic hats



Whoever guesses correctly as to what these are gets a cookie.



Our tour guide, Long, and Prof. Hollister



More of my beautiful wife's photographic eye



Courtney and Reese here. I know Courtney's reading the blog now as are friends and family and she liked this picture.



Group photo. Everyone's saying "dong!"



Finally! Picture of the "Vietnamese Hope Wheels" I told you all about.



Tour guide in training, Phong, and his smile caught on camera. Courtney asked me if I had a picture of Phong smiling and then all the other women perked up and talked about how they liked his smile.

So, I started telling poor Phong "Dude, you're so money and you don't even know it!" He's still learning English as part of his training to be a guide, so of course he didn't know what I was talking about.

But, I wanted a good picture of his lady-killer smile, so I explained "money" to him. I turned my camera on first and made sure it was ready to snap a quick photo. I told him it meant all the girls liked him and all the men bowed down to him because he was the king and it's because he doen't realize how cool he is.

He laughed, turned red and smiled. Then I lifted up the camera quickly and closed the shutter. Success!



Tiger Beer at Hue airport. Silly Americans. Well, Katie, Adam, Erika, Raechel and Tim from left-to-right, specifically.



Danielle reads a guide book while Katie writes in her journal at the hotel here in Ha Noi.



Just a great picture of Rebecca.



Leanna and Ashley at Ha Noi University. I had a great talk with Ashley yesterday when she was the first to point out my bi-cultural history. We commiserated on the Asian-American experience.



Flowers and a flooded boat by the pagoda where I prayed and meditated this morning.

More pictures to come, I promise!

Bi-Cultural

What can I say? I'm an Asian-Euro American.

I don't say this to be flip, coy or pretentious, even tough that's how I'm sure it comes out from a white American boy like me. But, being here in SE Asia again for the first time in 27 years has opened my eyes to who I am and helped me remember a part of myself I'd forgotten. Sure, I'm Chris Druckenmiller from Bismarck, ND. I'm also Teng Ke Wu from Hai Oh, a small fishing village south of Gaoshung, Taiwan.

I may have been born in Rockford, Ill, but I spent three very formative years of my childhood speaking Mandarin and Taiwanese, filling in the big red field of the Taiwanese flag with crayon and getting my knuckles rapped with a ruler by Lao Shu if my fingernails were dirty.

When my family moved back to the states I was 6 years old and an outcast. There were other students with blonde hair and pale skin like me but they laughed at my accent and broken English. I got teased and for years people would anger me by asking me to "Say something in Japanese!"

I got over it. I forgot all my Mandarin and Taiwanese except "Ni hao!" (hello) and gradually Americanized myself. Only now have I realized that I never did completely convert myself. Only now do I realize I'm an adult with a bi-cultural upbringing.

As I walk the streets here in Ha Noi I say "Xin chao!", nod my head, smile and get big curious smiles back at me. I can start to hear how my accent sounds to them. I don't know if it's a Saigonese accent because I'm dragging out the "chao" at the end or if I've started speaking like someone from Ha Noi. Either way, I know I do not sound American. Hell I don't sound western.

Do I sound Taiwanese? Do they smell the poor, low-class fishing village on my breath when I speak? Either way, I'm the oddity here.

This trip started out as a cool little vacation for Reese and I. It started turning into a business expedition as I saw the potential for development in Asia. Now it's become a life-changing experience.

I want to get the small company I work for in here and negotiate deals to make money for my company, my family and Asia. I want to build a second home in Hai Oh and split my time between there and the victorian Reese and I already own in Minneapolis.

I want to be buried in Hai Oh.

Leave it as that for this morning. I've got some iced, Vietnamese coffee to drink and email to check. Here's to hoping you and your family find wealth and happiness in whatever you do, too.

A Day to Ourselves in Hue

Reese and I got a great night’s sleep here in Hue. The hotel is gorgeous and the nicest we’ve stayed in. This part of the country is obviously more developed and modern than in the south and especially compared to the Mekong Delta.

Da Nang was especially modern and clean, but a lot of that can be attributed to the destruction it suffered during the war. The whole town’s been rebuilt and is a wonderful testament to Vietnamese resilience.

Yesterday was a long day. Woke up for the second morning in Na Trang and didn’t have to get on the bus to the airport until 10 a.m.. The plane ride to Da Nang was a little longer than the one from Saigon to Na Trang, but it was followed up by a long bus ride.

We visited a Chum culture museum, silk weaving factory and marbleworks shop. Lots of beautiful things to see but the group was getting quite weary, especially after visiting yet another market, this time in the small town of Hoi An.

The culture for shopping takes getting used to for us westerners. A shop owner came up to Reese and I on the street and struck up a conversation, then asked if we wanted to see her new shop. She just opened it four days prior and was obviously very proud. She had many silk wares including dresses, skirts, men’s suits and ties.

Unfortunately, she would have had to custom-make our clothes, and we didn’t have more than a few minutes. I kept telling her “Xin loi, xin loi,” or “sorry, sorry.” She really went out of her way to very nicely invite us to the shop and we might have bought something if we had more time. Closer to the bus Reese did go into a shoe store, though, and was able to quickly try on a nice pair of red flip flops.

Once we got back to the bus the day turned sour, however. Reese and I have been having the time of our lives here. She’s absolutely in love with the food, the people and the scenery. I’m enjoying all that and am pleasantly surprised to be learning Vietnamese at a lightning pace.

Some of the students on the trip, however, are doing a fine job of representing the ugly, arrogant American. Today we had a choice to either go back on the bus and tour with the group or take it easy and be on our own. Reese and I took the opportunity to ditch the group because I’m sure we’d end up saying things we’d later regret.

Instead, I’ll say the potentially regrettable things here and the people from our tour I’ll likely offend can read at their leisure.

Specifically, one young woman was bragging about how she was enlightening our tour guides about sexism, power and equality. They were telling her how it’s OK for men to sleep around but not women. She asked them why and they laughed.

What she took from the experience was how ignorant these two men seem to her and couldn’t wait to regale the rest of us with how she expanded their narrow horizons. She valiantly educated them about concepts such as oppression and the evils of one group of people having power and superiority over another.

I wanted to ask if she’s going to kick over Buddha statues and replace them with crucifixes for an encore. Luckily for everyone I bit my tongue.

How is this attitude any different than that of all the other conquerors who’ve been pushing Viet Nam around for over 1000 years? Since the mid-70s Viet Nam has been deciding what’s good for Viet Nam for the first time ever in its history. Who the hell is this woman to come here and start pushing them around again?

Yes, she considers herself liberal, enlightened and open-minded. That’s why I want to take her aside and explain to her just how imperialistic and ugly she’s being although I doubt she’d listen.

So, today Reese and I take a break from the group, try to remember only the wonderful things we’ve experienced so far and take in some new sights, sounds and smells as we tour Hue.

Busy Weekend of Pictures

More pictures time time from our weekend to My Tho and our current locale, Nha Trang.



Tea and fruit at a shelter among the gardens of one of the islands in the Mekong Delta. Long here demonstrates how Vietnamese dip pineapple in salt. Try it!



One of the boys singing with accompanyment while we enjoy tea and fruit.



Reese and the python. Better her than me.



U of Minn students trying their hands and feet at crossing the monkey bridge.



Two little girls who were gracious enough to stop so I could snap their picture.



A canoe ride along one of the canals on the island.



The market in My Tho. Saigon's markets sell everything from food to t-shirts to trinkets. This one just sells food. Adam, Mandy and Reese (behind Mandy) are pictured here. Mandy is almost 6 ft tall and Adam is a few inches taller than her. It was fun watching everyone gawk at those two.



Kitten in a tree! Reese snapped this photo outside a restaurant in Saigon just before we flew out to Nha Trang.



Long points out some bits of history to Reese and Professor Dimrock at a Chum (sp?) pagoda in Nha Trang.




















Two little boys posing for my camera with a very large Buddha in the background.



Coconut milk being prepared on one of the islands in the South China Sea. Here they call it the Vietnam Sea, of course.



Reese in front and I in back of a parasail.



The beach at another of the many Vietnam Sea islets. I learned to snorkel today. It wasn't easy at first as I'm certainly not at home in the water. But, once I got the hang of it the experience was quite relaxing, which was a pleasant surprise for me.

That's all for now! The internet connection here has been flaky, so this post took way longer than I intended.

The Friendly Side of the World

Reese and I were apprehensive at first with how the Vietnamese would treat us. I mean, our countries were at war for a long time and that type of thing does tend to make friendship tricky.

After a week here, though, I can't help but love Vietnam. I've finally realized the proper way to be is smile all the time, nod (bow) to everyone you see on the street and say "Xin chao." I always get a big smile and "Xin chao, xin chao!" in response. Yes, there are a lot of street vendors and some of the cynical westerners here are quick to pass it off as them just being friendly to your wallet. I don't believe that for a second.

This weekend we were in My Tho, a small city of 300,000 people on the Mekong River. I'll get pictures of that ready for later and I took a lot of them. I got a real glimpse into the future of Vietnam's tourism industry there.

We had lunch on one of the islands in the middle of the river where they grow many varieties of fruit. They treated us to afternoon tea accompanied by pineapple, jack fruit, dragon fruit and many others. As we drank tea and snacked some musicians played traditional music. One woman sang along with them and then two young boys in traditional clothes sang some more songs. Again, I've got lots of great pictures, so just wait.

Lunch was on another island and afterward I got up to wander. The whole place was like one huge, well-manicured garden with some small, stone arch bridges over the little canals. I found a narrow bridge over one canal made of a log no thicker than 6 inches with a bamboo railing. It reminded me again of Taiwan where I have memories of sitting on my dad's shoulders as he traversed narrow planks across canals to get from one part of Hai Oh to the other.

Once across that bridge I saw a man getting a huge python out of a cage. Just then the U of M students caught up with me and all the women took their turn holding the snake. Again, pictures of that to be posted later. None of the men wanted to hold the snake. I don't do live snake, thank you very much!

Right next to the python area was a monkey bridge. Another bridge made of narrow logs with bamboo railing but raised up and much longer. Took some more pictures of everyone trying it out, testing their balance and mettle by making it all the way from one side to the other.

I loved that everything was just there for you to discover, and one beautiful, amazing thing naturally led to the other. It reminded me of a Japanese tea garden except that right next door were obvious signs of poverty. We saw where people made coconut candy and got a tour of a traditional Vietnamese rural home.

Our guide, Mr. Long, told us that we could just walk into anyone's house in My Tho whenever we wanted just before he walked into a room where an old woman was taking a nap. She got up, smiled at him and excused herself so we could see her bedroom.

This, of course, made us Americans very uncomfortable, but I've grown to trust Mr. Long well enough and blazed the way. Then I finally remembered something from my childhood.

I once got in trouble at the age of 8 or 9 when I lived in southern, rural ND. My mom one day sat me down and explained that I couldn't go over to my friend's houses when they weren't around and play with their toys. I didn't understand why I couldn't, but respected Mom's wishes, of course.

I'd learned in Taiwan that kind of behavior was acceptible. I went over to my friends houses whenever I wanted and played with their toys, slept in their beds, ate their food and nobody thought ill of me.

So, it's the same here. To westerners it's so very foreign, and we think of it as a lack of privacy. I believe the Vietnamese don't see it that way. They don't believe they lack anything except a sense of imposition. You're never in anyone's way and you're never inconveniencing anyone. That's why traffic can be slow, chaotic and hectic and when you cross the street people slow down their scooters, look at you, smile and say "Hello!"

Slide Show

Gooooooood morning, Vietnaaaaam! There, I said it.

It's Saturday afternoon/evening for those of you I know of checking this blog. I finally got a full night's sleep last night and woke up at 5 a.m. feeling very good. We leave at 9 a.m. for Mi Tho (sp?) to spend a night along the Mekong River and then come back to Saigon tomorrow to fly up to Da Nang.

First up here are some pictures of a market near our hotel.



Here's Reese again.



I was looking for sugar cane but kept missing it.



Here is Phong, one of our tour guides, and Chad, one of the U of Minnesota students. I've had lots of good conversations with Phong and he's helped me learn a great deal more Vietnamese.



This was taken while I was just standing in the middle of the street, letting the scooters go around me.



The scooter parking lot at Saigon Open University. We met with Vietnamese students who are getting their BA in Social Work there.



More scooter culture. These are parked outside the War Remnants Museum.



Chad is taking a picture of one of the American bombs on display at the museum.

Visiting the museum and then the VC tunnels north of Saigon was one of the most emotional moments for us. It was very difficult to stay inside the main building of the museum without feeling like you were going to start tearing up. If that's how emotional it is for those of us who are the children of the generation that fought the war I can't imagine what it must be like for those who experienced it first-hand.



School children are everywhere at the museum. It's a popular school tour, I'm told. Phong kept telling me how important it was to him that nobody forgets what happened. He was also glad that our generation is able to get along so well. Even American war vets have come to Vietnam to meet with men who used to be their enemies.

Reese's dad was concerned at first with how people here would treat us and whether there was still a lot of bitterness. I haven't found any of that. Instead, Vietnam seems eager to open itself up to the world and quickly let the past be the past. I'm sure it doesn't hurt that us Americans come here and spend lots of money. But, I know it's a lot more than that. Saigon's a huge city, but everyone you see on the street smiles when you look at them and says a very heart-felt "Hello!" Seriously, they all say "hello." I'll say "Xin chao" every now and then, though.

Finally, to leave on a lighter note, a picture from our tour of the Viet Cong tunnels yesterday:



I took a lot of pictures of things that frankly might be too disturbing, especially to anyone who was in the war over here. For my own emotional stability I tried to think of it as similar to going to battle sites of our own revolutionary war. The only difference with this park was the Vietnamese were the minute men and the Americans were the red coats. That said, one of the professors on the trip was a draftee and hasn't been back here since the war and he seemed more fascinated than anything.

Indeed, with people like Phong and myself hitting it off and the obvious good will toward Americans here it's not hard to imagine a friendship similar to the current one between the Americans and the British.

The Deed is Done

What can I say? I did a few shots of vodka with fresh snake blood. The first shot had the still-beating heart of a cobra in it.
















More detailed pictures can be provided upon request.

Crab and Snake Saki

Reese and I ended up having a night out without each other last night. She ditched me first to go hang out with the girls so I retalliated in kind by going out for sea food with Prof. Peter Dimrock and some of the other students.

Had three Tiger beers, an order of 10 or so Tiger Shrimp and one whole crab. All of that cost me just under $15! From what I've heard that's about as expensive as it gets here. I could get used to this.

Dad posted a comment saying from my pictures and what I was saying that he was reminded of Taiwan, too. Yesterday I actually spent the morning at a shelter for girls who've been rescued from human trafficking and the building really took me back. Everyone there heard at least three times that it reminded me of my Taiwanese pre-school, right down to the light blue paint on the walls, tiled floors and shoe racks by the front door.

I really should have gotten a picture of the shoe racks and posted it right after that paragraph. Oh well, I'll apologize right now for this blog not being perfect.

Prof. Dimrock has promised to take those of us willing either tonight or tomorrow night to a restaurant where they serve cobra blood mixed with saki along with a fresh cobra heart. I won't say much more than that for now. He went into detail about the whole ritual. It's something I simply have to do and I'll post here with pictures and the full story.

I believe this weekend we go on a boat ride up the Mekong River and then spend a night someplace upstream. After that we make our way north to Da Nang and Hue. The last few days of the trip will be around Hanoi with a day at the beach on Halong Bay. We're all looking forward to the beach, I can tell you that!

Picture Time

We spent $140 on a new Nikon Coolpix camera and have taken over 60 pictures so far. Thought I'd actually share some with you all.

Here's Reese outside the airport in Saigon. She finally decided that 90 degrees with humidity meant she didn't need her sweatshirt any more. If you think she looks a little tired and out of it here, you ain't seen nothing yet:

This was just a couple hours before I absolutely died in the hotel bed.

"I need an SUV to haul my ..."

We visited a laquerware factory that actually employs the disabled. Very fascinating process and ironically obviously non-OSHA approved.

I could retire here and make a living as a bicycle and motorcycle mechanic quite easily. I want to buy a tire while I'm here because they're all displayed in the most ornate, fancy wrapping. I'll at least snap a picture or two of them. If the same thing were on sale in the states I could convince gullible, first year liberal arts students to spend up to $100 on a scooter tire wrapped up like that saying it's a Vietnamese Hope Wheel or something.

Enjoy the pictures! I've got to sign off and get to some government prostitution seminar. I tell ya, if I were here with software developers and not social work students then hearing people say "Hey, let's go to the prostitution thing after this" would take on a whole new meaning.

We Traded Tuesday for Taipei

Well, defining "yesterday" is going to be interesting in many ways. Not only did we not get a Tuesday this week thanks to the International dateline, skipping right ahead to Wednesday, but I was in such a jet-lagged haze that much of the morning and afternoon is a blur.

But, I do remember being pretty excited to be in Taipei again after 27 years. The 13 hour flight there wasn't as bad as a lot of us thought and we got two really great meals. It made me harken back to the box lunches we'd get on the train from Kaoshung to Taipei.

Taiwan has certainly come a long way in 30 years, based on the Taiwanese tourists flying back home from LA, Jiang Kai Shek Intl. and the tourism industry. It's almost like a little Japan, not the seeming 3rd world of my youth. As I write this from a busy street in Saigon at 10 to 6 a.m. Thursday morning it feels a lot more like that.

Actually, so far Vietnam feels like Europe used to before they became the 51st state with franchises taking over. People here actually stare at you because you're different. Although, everyone seems to speak at least enough English to sell you things and keep Vietnam green.

I did get a chance to learn up on a few Vietnamese phrases and words on the China Airlines flight here, though. They had this neat interactive entertaiment system on the back of every seat with which you could watch movies, listen to music or even play games. One of the "games" was called World Traveller and it was actually a language coach.

As expected, my advantage to learning Vietnamese is my Chinese knowledge. The two languages are, indeed, about as similar as French and Spanish are to each other. The structure and even many of the words are quite similar.

But, it looks like I'll only get to say cam o'n (thank you) to people serving my drinks or food as everyone else just automatically speaks English to me.

I was glad to see that places like Saigon haven't been taken over by Starbucks and McDonalds. For a while I was worried this place would feel just as homogonized as the once-foreign Europe.

Everyone here rides scooters, for one thing. There are cars, buses and a few taxis but the real way to get around is on two wheels. Makes sense for a developing city rather than invest in an expensive mass transit infastructure or expressway/freeway system. Cheap vehicles that sip gas and require little space for a high volume of traffic.

That traffic is crazy, too! There are stop lights but they're optional for the most part, especially if you're on a scooter. Buses and cars have to obey them, but they can't expect two-wheeled cross traffic to do the same.

Crossing the street as a pedesrian is an excercise in faith, too. It's just as we were told: just start walking out into the street and the bikes will go around you. On our brief walking tour yesterday we got to see that in action with many in our group expressing concerns as we all ventured out into the middle of a busy traffic flow.

Today should be an easier day for me. I went to bed at 5 p.m. yesterday. The time difference is 12 hours from Minneapolis. So, I didn't even bother changing my watch, just assume a.m. is p.m. and vice-versa. I didn't get much sleep on the flight and it was a very long night even without that. After our group lunch and brief walking tour yesterday I was exhausted and probably on the verge of hallucinating.

When we got back to our room the plan was to sleep for a couple hours and then get up for a dinner and boat ride along the Saigon river at 7. Reese tried to get me to help her set my cell phone alarm for 6:30 but I refused, saying she didn't understand how tired I was. She told me this morning she was too tired to know to tell me the same thing.

She did get up for dinner, though, while I just told her to leave me to sleep. Only half of our group showed for the dinner, so I wasn't alone in feeling totally dead. But, now that I've got a solid 12 hours of sleep I feel much better.

"I don't think I'd travel in SE Asia right now"

Reese and I spent a few hours at REI Tuesday night stocking up on travel supplies. The big ticket items were two pair of shoes for her. She sprained her ankle really bad back in January and has some tendonitis giving her a bit of pain. So far she's been using running shoes for walking and I steered her toward some low-cut hiking shoes. I think she'll be happy to do a lot of walking in shoes meant for the task. The other pair she got was like sandales but the toes were covered; same brand as her hiking shoes and very similarly designed but more of a sandal style.

She also got a few more clothes for the warmer weather. The night before I'd picked up some more breathable, jersey-style shirts for the trip. It's going to be in the 90s and humid and with how much I sweat I'll need clothing that's not just cool but quick-drying. Plus, I now have a bunch more great shirts I can wear biking.

Next we stocked up on a small clothesline with built-in clips, camp suds with citronella, four insect-repellant clothes treatment kits and insect repellant for our skin. The clothing treatment is a pretty neat idea. Each kit should be able to treat two pairs of pants and two shirts. So, that means each of us should have four outfits treated for the trip and it lasts for 6 weeks even through washings.

I then asked Reese if she thought four outfits would be enough for the trip. We have a weight limit of 40lbs each person for all the in-country flights, so everyone's been recommended to take clothes that can be easily washed in a hotel room. She thought that sounded good, although we may end up taking a couple more outifts each depending on weight.

One of the REI sales clerks perked up at our conversation and asked, "Where are you going where you'll only need four outfits? How long?"

We told him we'll be in Vietnam for two weeks and were limited by weight. He was pretty surprised at such restrictions and then asked us about whether we were worried about bird flu.

"Well, it's nowhere near as big a concern as malaria or hepatitis A," I told him.

"Wow. I don't know if I'd go traveling in SE Asia right now," he said. That was about the end of the conversation.

Reese and I had heard similar comments before, but not from someone working at REI! I mean, this store is where you go to spend $300 on a pair of mountain climbing boots while also getting ice spikes, a water filter and bear bells for a week in the high Rockies. If we told him we were doing a trip like that he'd probably say, "Sounds like fun! Boy, wish I was going with you."

Instead, we'll be sleeping in hotel beds, showering every day and eating well. There were some two or three dozen cases of avian influenza in humans in Vietnam last year but they seemed to have contained it. And, we've got medication for malaria and shots for other diseases or infections we're not used to while we're there.

Up in the rockies if you leave a candy bar in your tent a grizzy bear could kill you in your sleep because he wanted chocolate. Where we're going we might get a nasty case of diarrhea.

We Leave for Vietnam on May 15

My wife, Reese, is studying for her Masters in Social Work at the University of Minnesota. As part of the program she had the opportunity to travel to Vietnam and study social programs there. A few months ago we found out that I am allowed to join her even though I'm not enrolled.

We fly out of Minneapolis-St. Paul Intl. Airport on May 15 and will return May 29 when we fly out of Hanoi. We'll post pictures and stories about the trip here for friends and family.