and it goes on

People always say that the book is better than the movie. These past two weeks my life has been a library, and this will be a 2 minute promotional video to sum everything up into something easily digestible.

My perspective of the motorbike madness in Saigon has changed. Where once we thought it was every man for himself, honking to get ahead of the person in front, we now know traffic is cooperative. A honk does not mean, ‘get out of my way’, but rather ‘look out im in your blind spot’.

We went back to get the second motorbike a few nights later. It was dark out and we got lost on the way to see the britt. Which was perfect timing for the bike to break down…in a torrential downpour of rain…with both our phones dead. In the middle of nowhere with about $300 in my pocket, we pushed the bike a good mile or so to an underpass. We got it going, finally, and trudged on. As a man would later put it to me, learning to ride a four speed-manual motorbike in the streets of Saigon was “baptism by fire”. You should see the blisters on my hands.

In the past 3 weeks ive almost been in an accident about 6 or 7 times. Ill get to those later.

We met back up with Booya and he took us on a tour of Saigon. You would have thought this guy was a celebrity the way he knew EVERYBODY. He let us stay at his place which was an apartment complex- exactly the kind you would expect to see in a communist country. Me and gus went to the gym and the attendant there tried to talk with us in broken English. We told him we were Olympic swimmers training for the next Olympics and that we knew Michael phelps very well. This declaration was accompanied with a hug and an invitation to a party. I didn’t feel bad for lying. To him it was probably the most exciting thing hed heard all week- why spoil it telling him we’re 20 year old Americans doing nothing of the sort.

I don’t drink soda back home, but here there is nothing better to remind you of home than the taste of coke. I cant explain it, its like synesthasia or something. So damn good.

We spent far more time in Saigon than we would have liked. Gus’s bike kept breaking down so we kept exchanging them. Third time was a charm. Ish. We must have serviced them in total about 22 times since the purchase.

Speaking of bikes. You know how people always say something to the effect of, “live your life to the fullest because today you could walk across the street and get hit by a bus.” Well I think im living my life pretty full and I got hit by a fucking bus. It was on a round about, I heard a crunch while getting thrown forward, looked back and saw a 14 foot tall bus on my tail. The bastard wouldn’t stop, just blared his horn. I gained composure and sped off.

Down the way I saw these tiny cages with thousands of birds stuffed into them, they couldn’t even open their wings. I walked over to buy them and set them free…which was the point. Messed up. I could only afford to set loose about a hundred of them, so I bought a cage and let them go--each one sprinting in a different direction. It was a symbolic act. If everyone would just give a little bit, as much as they could, then good would only grow exponentially.

I get on facebook about once every 5 days for about 5 minutes. It feels great. You should try it. Not that I didn’t want to at first, but facebook is illegal here. 

Earlier I called doug a dick. I thought he was for paying his workers 15 cents an hour, 12 hours a day, 6 days a week. Those are by no means livable wages here, but they are standard. Nobody here is trying to get ahead. Everyone is just trying to get by. One woman told me almost apologetically that Vietnam is very poor, to which I responded that the people here seem happier than where I come from. Which is true.

Money here is called dong. We’re always trying to think of innuendos. The best ones so far: I blew about 400,000 dongs today, another day another dong, I cant wait to get my hands on some dong.

We left Saigon, putting our bikes on a train to go to Mui Ne. “Well that was orientation. This is the real thing.” Gus said. 

Haggling is more of a sport than a means to save money. Is a 5 minute debate really worth the 50 cents? No. But its kind of fun to see what you can get away with. It’s a skill, it really is. Me and gus both have our own tactics.

Its fun to be in public talking about really lude things in front of children and parents when they have no idea what you’re saying. But at the same time, neither do we with them.

A saw an American man pointing a camera at some woman selling fruit on the street. He was shoutting directions at her in a language she didn’t understand, “don’t look at the camera, just keep doing what you’re doing!” Which pissed me off- people are not amusement park rides. Here, you adapt to THEM.

We stayed at a hotel where the owners son sat next to me, watching me while I was on the computer. Rather than try and talk without success, I decided to just sit there in silence and enjoy his company. There’s a lot of that here; words are not always necessary.

I hope animals are not as sentient as I think they are cause I’ve seen some really fucked up things happen to creatures since ive been here and theres nothing I can do about it.

From Mui Ne we rode to Dalat. Rather, we were supposed to ride to dalat but got lost about a dozen times and ended up in this small mountain top village where a store owner offered for us to stay the rainy night in his house with him and his wife. They made us food and tea. I knew the place around us was beautiful even though I couldn’t see 20 feet into the distance. So there we sat on his concrete floor, the three of us exchanging little gifts and devouring a Vietnamese phrase book. That little book was the best $5 ive ever spent.

Being lost is an awful, scary, yet exciting feeling. To look around and see nothing known, with no sense of direction, no sense of home, no sense of urgency, no potential for instant familiarity, but at the same time unlimited potential to connect with the unfamiliar.

Funny thing. I was furious at my travel partner over a difference in directional opinion. I saw him at a gas station and drove up, throwing my helmet 30 yards and getting in a yelling match. When the dust settled I looked around to see about 14 Vietnamese men just staring at us, not moving an inch, mouths open. They probably average seeing one white person a week and here we were causing a scene.

I’ve been really trying to learn the language. Its made me realize how monotone we Americans are. I think I pronounce the words right but then I get corrected about 8 times before moving on to the next tonal failure. There are about 5 different ways to pronounce each letter of the alphabet. I wish my short term memory was not so poor because I can never remember what they tell me. It all sounds the same.

Never take dry feet for granted. It’s a rarity and a luxury now a days.

Here’s a scene from one of my rides. Shirt off, sun out mid morning, riding along the coast. Feeling the ocean breeze, learning back against my bag on my bike, hearing the waves crash louder than my engine, smelling the salt water.

We got to Delat and got a cheap bottle of liquor. Walking around town we invented a game. It was like baeball, but each person we convinced to take a shot was a hit and a base, and each person that said no was a strike. We passed the bottle back and fourth a few time s before finding out that the artists were the ones who always got us a base. Typical.

My frequent purchases are seafood fried rice, bottled water, mechanic visits, calling cards, pastries of some sort or another, hotel rooms, and gas.

There was a 3 on 1 fight over a motorbike wreck that we witnessed. I decided against getting involved despite wanting badly to help the man. This is not our country, it’s not our place, we must leave it unchanged and untouched. There was a crowd of 100 Vietnamese watching the whole thing- I saw a dad hold his kid on his shoulders to watch it. Ha.

I miss my home. I miss my friends. I miss you Kelsey. I miss my family.

Many Vietnamese answer the phone saying ‘hello’ even thought they don’t speak any English. We exercised on the cliff of a waterfall, literally. Food is now the gas for my body, not something meant to enjoy. When it rains here it POURS.

How I know this is a communist country: the same exact products are sold everywhere, there are very few beggars- everyone has a job no matter how small, the phone system is a joke, I have yet to see a school child not wearing a uniform, and the people are more satisfied with less.

Its hard to comprehend that im here. That im in a foreign country. It dosn’t seem so foreign. It’s the same thing as home; the land, dirt roads, clouds, rain, smiles, conversations, monetary exchanges, the need to get some where, a hand shake, the ‘I don’t know’ shrug, its all the same. It’s the same everywhere. Only the shapes and colors that we sew onto a cloth rectangle are different. Such a shame that we rarely recognize the universal nature of the human experience.

I try to get on a working computer as often as possible which is about once a week. That was 4 days worth. Love and later.