Year: 2011

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Hoi An, Vietnam

Hoi An was just a short bus ride south of Hue.  The food, feel and architecture of Hoi An reflects its many influences of Chinese, Japanese, Dutch, and Indian styles. This is especially true of Chinese and Japanese because for many years, they both regarded Hoi An as one of the best trading towns in all of Southeast Asia. And although the town’s prominance fell after the collapse of the Nguyen Dynasty, at which point the nearby town of Da Nang became a center for trade, Hoi An has escaped much of the damage that many other historical Vietnamese sites have seen over the last century.

Hoi An Chinese flag

Shop in Hoi An

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Hue, Vietnam

The Imperial City, Hue’s main attraction, reminded me of a beaten up Beijing Forbidden City. It’s grandeur, size and elaborate architecture were obvious despite the natural disasters and bombs that have left this great relic only a fraction what it might be. Between 1802 and 1945, the Imperial City was the capital of the Nguyen Dynasty.

Front gates of Imperial City

After a visit to the forbidden city, I walked the smaller, less touristy streets, and took a short ride on a boat down the Song Huong (Perfume River).

Perfume River

On a different note, the mix of influences from French to Chinese was clear from the variation in architecture around the city.  This photo is the view from my bedroom window.

Hue bedroom view

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The Kids Table

As I travel and search for new cultural experiences, I want to try the local foods, see how different people lead their lives, and start to understand the world as they do. Having dinner with Quynh and her family is this authentic experience. I arrive at her home complete with a small store front, several bedrooms, a kitchen, a small dining room, a chicken pen, and her big family. Quynh has 4 other sisters, all of whom live at home with their father, mother, grandparents, and two dogs. The newest addition to the family at only 6 months old is Susu. When I arrive, I meet most of the players as we all congregate in the front while the father mans the store of cigarettes, snacks, and drinks.

My Hue Family

Hue Grandparents

After a tour of the home, much playing with the baby, and getting to the know the family while using a couple of the sisters as translator’s, it is time for dinner. At this point, one of the sister’s boyfriends also enters the scene, making dinner a crowded occasion. As would happen in my family, the adults sit at one table and the kids sit at another. The parents and grandparents sit in the dining room, while the kids sit outside around a small table.

The food is traditional and at times, too traditional. I try everything on the table, and as I am eating, the five sisters continue adding more to my plate. Most of the dishes I enjoy even if I have little idea what it is I’m actually consuming, and half way through the meal, I realize not knowing is probably easier than knowing. One of the sisters puts something in my plate, and because they like to joke and try to mislead me, I assume when they say it’s a pig’s tail, they are trying to get a reaction out of me. I give them their reaction as my face cringes, but I learn that they are not joking and slowly work my way around the cartilage in the center of the tail.

The night ends where it began, in the front near the street. We drink tea, laugh, and learn about each others’ cultures and customs while I thank them repeatedly for their hospitality using the new Vietnamese vocabulary I learned during the day. Half jokingly, one of Quynh’s sisters keeps questioning me if I want to take Quynh back to the States with me. I respond with an uncomfortable smile and an enthusiastic yes. The follow up question is then do I want to take one of the other sisters back with me. Again I smile, blush, and respond that the whole family should come to California. They all laugh at me, and I feel relieved. Before leaving, we arrange ourselves in many permutations for a quick photo shoot so that we all can remember the night.

More than the inspiring sites and adrenaline-pumping activities, it is experiences like these that are making traveling so exciting.

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My Hue Tour Guide

I’m on a flight to Hue and sitting next to two Hue locals, Quynh and her grandfather. Although only a short flight, through broken English, Quynh and I have enough time to cover the basics– names, jobs, home towns, and families. And before parting ways, we make a tentative plan to meet up the next day and she gives me her contact info. A couple dollar SIM card later, I give her a call and we set up a time for her to come pick me up on her motorbike from the very simple and nice Hong Thien Hotel (the first A/C room I’ve enjoyed in two weeks). Still not convinced that she is actually coming, I wait outside and soon after she pulls up with an extra helmet in hand.

Me and Quynh
Quynh, her motorbike, and me

We go to a couple of the more famous pagados and tombs in Hue before visiting her mother and sisters at the local market, where they tend to two different shops. Trying to keep up with Quynh in the market is a challenge as she weaves in and out of the many obstacles of the already narrow passageways. At one point, she and her sister run off and I am left sitting alone at the booth. I am tempted to attract customers in the many ways that I have experienced. As someone passes by, protocol is to tell them hello and ask where they are from or what they are looking for. I did not say anything; I restrained myself.

Although her English is fragmented, Quynh gives me Vietnamese language lessons throughout the day so that I can at least communicate hello, goodbye, and thank you. She shows me her favorite sites in the city with pride and excitement for each location. Quynh is an excellent tour guide, and to complete the day, she invites me back to her family’s home for dinner, which results in a very authentic Hue experience.

Bell ringing in Hue

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Vietnam and the American War

Growing up in the US education system, it’s almost hard to imagine that Vietnam has such a long history before the Vietnam War. The first time Vietnam appears in textbooks is in the chapters on the Vietnam war in the second half of the 20th century. With a little extra research, I learned that Vietnam has a history stretching as far back as Paleolithic times—when humans were beginning to realize the advantage of using stone tools. There is recorded Vietnamese history as far back as a couple hundred years BCE before even the Chinese had consolidated Vietnam’s land into its empire. The Chinese then ruled for only about 1000 years—one full millennium. The ancientness of these places that I am visiting is hard to fully grasp. The recorded history of California if we go by the first European explorers is about 1550. There were of course the indigenous people of California, the Native Americans, before the European explorers; however, there is very limited recorded history from this long period. The first Vietnamese state arguably existed in the 3rd century BCE, and America became independent only in 1776. The fact that I don’t know anything about Vietnam pre-1950 is embarrassing, and I wanted to at least learn some basics before arriving.

I skimmed through bits and pieces of Stanley Karnow’s book, “Vietnam: A History” to get an idea of this rich history so that when presented with its relics, I hoped I would have a larger appreciation of what I was looking at. I wanted to have a reaction when visiting sites other than those having significance from the Vietnam War.

However, given that I am an American in a country that has had such a difficult history with America, the Vietnam/American War cannot be ignored. The Vietnam War, lasting twenty years starting in 1955, is something I’ve heard about from my parents generation and read about in history class. I learned the bigger issues and the major players and why the US wanted to contain the spread of communism. I have been told about the controversy with US involvement and of the casualties that ensued. The 58,159 U.S. Service members that died is unfortunately a small number compared to the 200,000 plus Cambodians and undetermined but frighteningly large number of Vietnamese. The estimated numbers of Vietnamese soldiers and civilians that were killed during the war range from around 1,000,000 to greater than 3,000,000 people.

I come to Vietnam with an open mind, and from what I’ve heard, I feel that the sentiment is reciprocated.

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One Morning in Bangkok

I have a long layover in Bangkok between arriving on the overnight bus and departing on a plane to Vietnam later in the day. I realize that college classmate Nithya and her cousin Sangita are in Bangkok, coordinate a plan to meet up, and we make the most of the morning. In a short time, we wander through the Bangkok Flower Market, see the largest golden Buddha in the world at Wat Traimit, and window shop at the several story MBK in the center of town, all before settling down to a Thai lunch.

Bangkok market
The Flower Market had more to offer than just flowers
largest golden buddha
This 3 meter tall Buddha is made of solid gold
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Goodbye, Chiang Mai

I have been in and around Chiang Mai for about two weeks and am sad to leave but ready to move to my next destination.  Before leaving, there are a couple more sights, sounds, and smells that I want to experience.

At one stop in the Warorot Market, I have a chance to shop as the locals do. There are less wooden elephants, more practical items, and many fabrics. The colors coming from the fabric shops almost make me wish I know how to make something with it all; but instead, I am happy to realize that the clothing I already bought was sewn from those colorful rolls. When my feet began to tire, I take a break upon finding a stand selling sticky rice with mango, which I eat while watching a seemingly important Muay Thai boxing match on a television with other emotional locals. Rice, mango, Muay Thai, hot temperatures, humid weather, the smells of food from an open market, sights of cloth, and shops selling everything from kids toys to motorcycles made me feel like I am starting to better understand Chiang Mai.

Fabrics at Warorot Market

In addition, in my last 24 hours in Chiang Mai, I visit the Women’s Prison. Rumor has it that many of these women are being taught translatable skills that they can then use to get their lives back on track, and one of these skills is that of Thai massage. The money that the women earn while massaging gets put away and then is given back to them when they leave the prison as an aid in getting their lives restarted. Surprisingly, the atmosphere of this massage spa is one of the nicer I’ve experienced since away. Although the massage isn’t great, I am happy that I learned about the programs happening at the prison and had a chance to contribute a small amount while getting an extra massage in the process.

Lastly, I visit the Chiang Mai Zoo and Aquarium. The other visitors are mostly Bangkok tourists as becomes obvious when the tram driver only speaks in Thai. The zoo is a typical zoo, where the animals are placed in areas a bit too confined and many onlookers wait for the animals to do something spectacular like Mumble’s dance from Happy Feet. The Aquarium, on the other hand, I really enjoy from the fresh water tunnel to the obscure and beautiful sea creatures to the scuba diver feeding some of the larger fish. I also notice some fish, such as the stone fish and clown fish, that I had seen just several weeks ago while scuba diving in Bali. In the afternoon, sun turns to rain, everyone rushes for their cars and taxis, and back at the guest house, I do my last preparations before my sleeper bus.

Feeding at the aquarium

Stone Fish at Chiang Mai Aquarium

As with most places I’ve already visited, the people I met during these two weeks made the experience. These include the silent yet smiling other meditators at Doi Suthep, Aurelieu, my French friend, Beth, another meditator who I randomly ran into on the street after the retreat, Earl, a local from Chiang Mai, as well as those I had spent time with pre-monastery. I leave my second guest house, Grace House located on Soi 9 of the old city, watch out for any water-spraying Songkran celebrators, and make my way back to the bus station.

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Songkran Begins

Songkran, as celebrated in Thailand, is the traditional New Year’s Day and includes a celebration that lasts almost a week. In each of my last two days in Chiang Mai, this festival began, the music got louder and more abundant, and the water wars were beginning in full force. Tradition is that people cover each other in water to celebrate the clean slate given to all at the beginning of a new year. All weapons are allowed from water guns to buckets to garden hoses, and every street I walk down, I try to spot any potential threats. I don’t mind the water guns, but it’s the buckets of water that can really do damage. Unfortunately (or fortunately because of the 95 degree weather), I was hit by a bucket right next door to my guest house while my guard was down.  From a safe distance, here she is smiling while holding her weapon of choice.

Ready for Songkran

I am dripping in water and many faces from around the street are smiling and some are laughing. I look at the culprit, and she is probably a little over 10 years old and has the biggest grin of anyone. I smile back, and continue walking down the street missing my guest house because I am understandably flustered. A little farther down, a couple, who witnessed the whole bucket-drenching event shot me benignly with their water guns and ask if I want to borrow one to get a little revenge. I take the biggest one I can find, the one where you stick the end in water and fill the gun like a giant syringe. I hide my weapon behind my back, approach the girl who is still smiling, wait for her to dump her water on the next unsuspecting passerby, and I get a clean hit on her back. My dignity is saved and I now feel I had a chance to play a role in the water wars of Songkran.

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Smoothies

Strawberry, dragon fruit, passion fruit, papaya, pineapple, guava, and my favorite mango! My post-monastic life has been spent eating and smoothie-ing. The day I left the meditation retreat, I never turned down a smoothie and stopped for any and every snack I could find. Several curries and pad thai’s later, I again feel energized to see what’s out there, until I find another stand selling rotis or sticky rice with mango. The rotis with banana, egg, chocolate, icing, sugar all in a thin pancake then soaked in oil, butter and more oil are the perfect morning, mid-afternoon and bedtime snack. Good thing these treats fit in the budget as most smoothies and snacks can be found for 20 baht ($0.67 USD).

Roti Cart
About to cook up a delicious Roti
sticky rice with mango
Sticky rice with mango made to order
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Trip’s Lucky

Being at the monastery for a week, gave me some extra time to think. Unfortunately, I cannot say that I came up with novel revelations, but this is one thing that came to mind several times.

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I wish I could say that I’ve earned what I have gotten. I want to believe in a meritocracy where hard work and diligence can bring success. I can say that if there is success, then hard work and diligence will usually be involved, but unfortunately, I cannot say that the opposite is as true. In other words, when there is hard work, there is not necessarily success. Things are not fair, and I almost feel guilty that life has been so fair to me. I haven’t deserved all that I have experienced, all that I have enjoyed, and all that I will continue to do. The reason that I mentioned I only almost feel guilty and I don’t feel absolutely guilty is because more than anything else, I feel lucky.

The word “luck” was one of the most used words by my late poppy (my family’s name for grandfather) for as long as I can remember. Listening to him describe his life, his family, and his fulfillment as a result of being fortunate made me fully realize that I also owe almost everything to luck. I grew up in a family with two parents who could not care any more about their children and about their children’s success and well being. My two older sisters and I would joke how my mom’s favorite phrase was that she wanted to make sure we all had choices. The worst thing that we could do growing up was make a choice-limiting step, and every step in our life paths should present more choices than the previous one. This notion of making sacrifices today so that there was more to enjoy tomorrow was never a choice, it was never a conscious decision, and it was definitely indoctrinated into me at a very young age.

Philosophies like this one that I have made my own, I had no control over. This is one of the many reasons why I feel so lucky. Life is so complicated that I cannot even conjecture in what I might have believed had I grown up in a different family, a different country, and with different priorities. This lack of control of who I have come to be makes me feel at the same time both frightened and incredibly lucky.

Now I am at another crossroads in my life where I am finishing up two years working in the adult-named “real world” and about to start two years of school. Do I deserve to have the opportunity to go back to school? Did I earn the opportunity to travel for many months before starting school again? Did I merit working at a place for the last two years with a work atmosphere that was so positive and a product so promising? Sadly, my answer to all these questions is no. At first this may seem like a very pessimistic attitude. But, my response to those who accuse me of pessimism is that it is just the opposite. I feel lucky. When good things happen to me and those things were out of my control, how can I feel anything other than lucky? This is start of my anti-freewill debate, but I will save that for another time.

I feel so fortunate for this adventure that covers several continents in a multi-month journey around the world. I haven’t earned it, and I probably don’t deserve it, but realizing this, I hope that somehow, during the trip and after, I will be able to use these experiences to give back. How this giving back will materialize is still unclear, but I will look for opportunities and be ready for them. Thank you to everyone that I have run into, that have influenced me in an unmeasurable way, and that have allowed me be to so lucky!