A tale in KL (part 1)

Returning to Malaysia from Vietnam was a little like returning to the US from abroad. The two countries couldn't be more different in just about every way; however we did notice a large population of Asians in both places. 😋 

Kuala Lumpur, or KL as everyone calls it, is about as modern of a city as possible. Towering skyscrapers, manicured gardens and landscaping, organized and orderly traffic, and a bustling city life with all the modern conveniences we have grown to expect. It definitely had a feeling of home.  

On our first day in KL Mark was feeling no better, and Bryan was now following suit. The two spent some time in the drug store and bought enough supplies to open their own apothecary. Our first couple days we spend relaxing and recuperating, which was a welcomed change from our hectic experiences in Vietnam. 

Our accommodations in KL were at the Hilton Double Tree hotel, and they were certainly first class. Our suites were located on one of the executive floors, and we again had access to the executive lounge on the top floor. This privilege granted us a free breakfast buffet, all day access to the lounge, and evening dinner and drinks. All this was purchased using only Hilton points and Hilton Gold status. So basically the entire week, including most meals, was at no charge. 

The morning buffet was simply amazing. The restaurant was divided into three distinct areas: Malaysian, Chinese, and Indian. Each area was decorated to match, and served a variety of foods from that culture. All three sections were included in the breakfast. Each morning we were seated in the India section. The unmistakable aroma of curry and spices permeated the area and gave a feel of authenticity to our experience. Our primary waiter was a 22 yr old young man from Bangladesh. We found out that most of the waiters are from Bangladesh. Our waiter, Tonmoy, was enormously polite and attentive. He brought us juice and drinks even without us ordering any, and was always right on the spot taking used plates and attending to our every culinary need. On his day off, he specifically picked another waiter to take care of us and directed him to bring us fresh squeezed juice, which we found out later was typically at an extra charge. We found all the staff at the hotel to be of the same caliber. Whether they were personally attending to us or if we just passed a staff member in the halls, they all lit up and greeted us like long lost friends. We certainly felt welcomed and comfortable for the entire visit.

Perhaps the most significant and well known feature of KL is the Petronas Towers. They are two identical stainless steel spires and hailed as the tallest twin towers in the world. Petronas Twin Towers were once the tallest buildings in the world. The 88-story buildings are joined at the 41st and 42nd floors (175m above street level) by a 58 meter-long, double-decker Sky Bridge. Standing 452 meters tall, the Petronas Twin Towers retained its world-title claim to fame until 2004 when Taipei's 101 was built.

We took the one hour round trip tour to the top for unparalleled views of the city. While we were there, we watched a camera crew filming some type of commercial. The main character in the shots we recognized as Jason Godfrey.  We saw him numerous times on our in house TV channel in the hotel doing the commercial for the Makan restaurant where we had breakfast.

Since we had opted for a movie experience in Vietnam, we decided to try it here also. The new JK Rowling movie "Fantastic Beasts and Where to find them" was being released that week, and I knew die-hard fans back in the States that were counting down the moments to the premier. We saw it in KL a full day before it was released in the US. It was a good movie, and it was fun poking at friends back home who were still anxiously waiting to see it.

As in Vietnam, the popcorn served was carmel corn, but this theater was larger and had many bins of popcorn, and fortunately one small bin did have regular popcorn. Apparently it is a very slow seller here. This theater had 4 versions of the film. 2D, 3D, 4D and Beanie seating. We weren't sure what the additional ones were, but time wise we were limited so we saw the standard 2D showing. Some kid tried to explain to us in uncertain English that Beanie seating was laying in bean bags, apparently watching the movie projected on the ceiling. 

Halfway through the week, Mark and Bryan were still both feeling a little under the weather, and were buying cough drops in bulk quantities. We still managed a few short trips around the city, and that seemed to be adventure enough.

The Joy of Hanoi (part 2)

There is no shortage of capitalism in communist Vietnam. From what we heard, there is little to no financial help from the government, even for the handicapped, poor, or elderly. Families are very important in this culture, and necessary just for survival. Property is so expensive that two or three generations of families all live in the same house. When a new room is needed the only way to expand is upward. The houses can be quite narrow and can get quite tall.

Family businesses are also the norm, and all generations can be seen working together. For restaurants, the kids wash and clean, the teens wait tables, the parents cook, and the grandparents cut and the prepare the food. One of our tour guides told us the reason for large families was due to "happy water"; his term for alcohol. He said "Man drink happy water, go home to wife, only one drink but make two happy." 

Everyone works, and when they don't have an actual store front to use, then they make their own "store" anywhere on any street or sidewalk.  Everyone seemed to have some kind of service they offered. People just pick a street corner, a tree, or an underpass and that becomes their 'office'. On one corner we saw a young man good at fixing scooters, which were everywhere. People just pulled up, he did his work, they paid and drove off. It was rather efficient and convenient, actually.

Walking down a crowded street, Bryan stopped for a moment and before he knew what was happening, a young man was kneeling in front of him adding a little glue to a small loose place on the edge of the sole of his shoe. He then indicated for Bryan to remove one of his shoes so he could "fix" it. We were mobbed with people on that street, so the initial response was to flee. But in this case Bryan had been having trouble with the sole coming loose on one sneaker. Bryan relented and in a few minutes his shoe was back to normal. The guy was very thorough and did a great job. Unfortunately financial negotiations did not take place BEFORE the work began. After the job was done, the young man asked for an exorbitant amount, and Bryan only had a very small amount of cash on him at the time. Bryan pulled out all his money (about a dollar and a quarter's worth) and offered it to the guy. He turned his pockets inside out to indicate that was all he had. At first the young man made a fuss, but then accepted. When we walked away I could see the young man smiling about the incident. 

Another day we were walking by an old Banyan tree with a trunk that was at least 18-20 feet in diameter. As we passed, a local man waved us over. He was a barber, and the tree was his office. He had a mirror precisely wedged within the gnarled roots. Other roots, which snaked up the trunk, acted like shelves where he kept his various equipment. I was in need of a hair cut anyway, so I agreed. The barber was learning English, and showed us his English grammar book and attempted to carry on a conversation with us. The barber appreciated the language practice, and Bryan and I got really great hair cuts for $3 each. 

 

But street corner services only represent a portion of the local businesses. It seems that there was some people with more means in the area as well. Every now and then we saw fancy hotels, fancy stores, and some rather expensive restaurants. And Vietnam is not lacking in modern convinces. Everyone has a cell phone and many have expensive iPhones and Android phones. A big seller was the new Samsung S7. It was the same one that has recently been under fire in the US for having a defective battery that can explode. Apparently Vietnam got a good deal on them because advertisements for them were everywhere.

Vietnam also has a good number of movie theaters. We decided to go and see the movie "Dr Strange", which was recently released in the United States. I was particularly excited about the show because I had been missing popcorn. Come to find out, they only offer carmel corn at the theater. Not my favorite, but we all got some anyhow. The prices for movies and popcorn in Vietnam are but a fraction of what they cost back home. The price of the movie, popcorn and drink were about $4. The same in the states would be about $20.

While the government mostly seems invisible among the public, we found out that they do make their mark. All Internet usage for hotels, restaurants and public Internet cafes are monitored. We were advised to be cautious with what we do online. During one of our tours, we passed a small poor looking town that had a large, beautiful and expensive looking gateway. The tour guide mentioned that the ten million dollar gate was funded by the government, although the people in the town still live in old run down buildings, don't have a lot of work or food and some can't afford basic necessities. Sounds familiar, we thought. In the states we can't afford healthcare and insurance, and have taxes on basic necessities like food, even with the extreme poor but somehow we can manage to find billions of dollars to fund stupid projects and to send overseas.

During our visit to Ha Long Bay, Mark started feeling a little woozy. The next day Mark was pretty much having a full blown cold. We cut our activities a little short to give him a chance to recuperate best he could. Being sick is never fun, but in a strange place full of strange things it makes it even worse. Drug stores were not readily available in Vietnam like we found in Malaysia. We were close to leaving, and he hung in there. When I was sick, I spent the day in the bathroom. Mark just needed to be in bed. We boarded the taxi for the airport the next morning, and soon found ourselves back in Malaysia in Kuala Lumpur. 

Weekend Market

Friday evening we arrived back at our hotel late, both tired and hungry. We decided to walk to the nearest restaurant for a quick bite and then retire early. We went to our rooms to drop off our day packs. My feet were killing me so I removed my shoes and put on some prickly sandals I purchased the day before. The sandals have little plastic bumps that I suppose are intended to massage your feet while walking. Since we were only going a short distance, I decided to try them out. We regrouped in the lobby and went out in search of a quick dinner.

Since our time was coming to a close in Vietnam, rather than grabbing a hamburger or making another visit to the next door Pizza Hut, we decided to go a little further from the hotel to find some local food. We passed corner after corner and crossed street after street, having no luck finding suitable local food. Eventually we happened onto the city center in the Old Quarter area. What we found was that the entire area was closed to vehicles, and what appeared to be a huge street fair was taking place. While it was certainly not what we were expecting, at least there were food trucks so at last we could find something to eat. There were games of all sorts happening up and down the streets, as well as a variety of very good live entertainment. Music groups were playing in different areas of the city center, and a main stage featured large screen TVs with a professional troupe doing native dances. There was also quite a large market area with tents selling foods and a variety of handcrafted goods and souvenirs. Several people were in costumes portraying cartoon characters, including Mickey Mouse and other Disney icons. Streets were closed for miles, and the place was literally packed with people. We had no clue what we had stumbled onto, but apparently we lucked out by being here during this festival. Amidst the excitement I had one nagging problem. My prickly new sandals were starting to dig holes into my feet. We had walked much further than we anticipated, and the pain in my feet was unrelenting. But the atmosphere was exciting. We were standing and watching all the activities and entertainment, but we still hadn’t eaten.

We then made a concerted effort to find food. We walked along the edge of the lake, which was at the center of the old city where this festival was taking place. It was every bit as interesting at a state fair, and maybe better. People were lined along the street painting caricatures of festival goers. There were people dressed as clowns making balloon animals for the kids, and doing face paintings. A long rope lay in the road, and every so often a large number of people would grab the rope, half on each side, and start tugging away. It was the largest tug-of-war I had ever seen played.

The lighting in the town square was also impressive. Bridges, trees and other structures on the lake were illuminated for the festivities. 

We slowly made our way through the crowds and thought we located the beginning of the food vendor section when we were approached by a few young Vietnamese kids. They asked if we would mind talking with them for a few moments. Anticipating a sales pitch, Bryan immediately let them know he had no money. His comment was immediately met with giggles; and the conversation began. In a few moments Bryan had a small group huddled around him asking him all sorts of questions in their very broken English. Where are you from, what do you do, why are you here, who are you with…and so on.

The group continued to grow in numbers, and soon I had my own group huddled around me asking similar questions. Mark, who is overly cautious of locals and always expecting a plea for money, wanted nothing to do with them and withdrew. He was basically hiding behind a tree hoping to be inconspicuous. It didn’t work. The more we showed willingness to talk, the more kids arrived. The group grew so large that several eventually found Mark cowering and attached themselves to him and soon he was also fully engaged. As it turned out, all the kids belonged to a city-wide English club. Their ages ranged from 16 to 26 years old. The goal of their club was to improve their spoken English. They study written English in school and concentrate on grammar, but pronunciation and practical use is not part of their studies. Their task was to find English speakers and practice. We were their assignments.

The 'few moments' turned into a couple of hours, and still more young people were walking by and joining in. By this time I was sure my feet were bleeding. I mentioned it to them and they all thought it was hilarious that I would wear such things. We helped them with their pronunciations and taught them new words, they likewise did the same with us. They taught us to count to five in Vietnamese, and helped us with other basic words and phrases. We shared stories, talked about their schools and careers, and even listened to some of them sing songs in English. One young man had quite a reputation for his terrible singing, and the only song he knew was "My heart will go on". With only the slightest encouragement he agreed to perform. His rendition of the song really was, well, terrible. But he sang it out like he was performing his best on America's Got Talent.

Finally the time had come when we had to make our move. The crowd was starting to lessen a bit, and we were concerned that the restaurants and food places would soon close. We graciously dismissed ourselves as politely as possible, and reluctantly the kids agreed to let us go. We took pictures and said our goodbyes. No doubt some of them would have kept us there all night. We felt like celebrities. In fact, speaking of celebrity, while we were deep in discussions a lady walked by with her husband. Several of the kids spotted her and started pointing. She was a Vietnamese celebrity of some sort, and certainly drew attention. One of the kids with Bryan commented that they were enjoying their talk with us more, so they all stayed and kept chatting.

By the time we finally pulled away, it was late and my feet had gone into crisis mode. Those little plastic bumps felt like razor blades cutting into my feet, and now I could no longer walk. I removed my sandals and shuffled around on the filthy streets for a bit, but that was no better of a solution. I looked for other shoes to buy. In the mean time we were all starving and finally sat down at the first little restaurant we could find. It was a place that the locals frequented. Very cheap, just some chicken pho soup. We sat on tiny little chairs on the sidewalk over little tiny baby tables. The entire place was on the sidewalk. There was a low table full of fixings. A man sitting there made up the bowls and served us. This was exactly the kind of place we had been avoiding up to this point. They cook the food on the street, wash the dishes in a bowl on the street, and serve to patrons who sit on the street. You couldn’t get more local than this. But it was tasty and we were starved. Our concerns about the street food were overshadowed by our hunger. We were pleasantly surprised at how tasty and satisfying our meal was. 

After dinner we started back to our hotel, but I was still unable to walk. My new sandals had failed miserably; my feet felt like chopped meat. I limped along for a few minutes, but I was certain I would not be able to walk all the way back to the hotel. I stumbled along and walked right into an area full of bicycle rickshaws. They swarmed us, offering to take us to whatever destination we chose. At first we declined, but then I realized I had no choice. We saddled up and off we went. 

We each had our own rickshaw and driver. My driver was old and didn’t seem to be in the best of health. With each pedal I could hear the man groaning and grunting. I was wondering if we were going to make it. A few times he groaned loud enough I thought about switching with him and let him in the little comfy seat up front. But he was a trooper and kept trudging along. We arrived safely and shortly thereafter I was in the shower massaging my damaged feet.

While talking with the college students, we discovered that the big festival that night was not a festival at all. It was their usual weekend event which they called the Weekend Market. This event was massive, and the crowds were overwhelming. We were completely shocked to find out this was their regular weekend celebration. It appeared that the entire town was out, and it was really amazing to see the community celebrate like that for no special reason other than it being the weekend. 

Ha Long Bay

For our final excursion in Vietnam, we decided to visit the famed Ha Long Bay. We were picked up at the hotel at 8:30 AM and taken by taxi to the bus where we joined the rest of the group. Ha Long Bay was a four hour drive from Hanoi, and required us to pass through many small towns on the worse possible roads in Vietnam. The ride was a bit grueling and we were all relieved when we finally reached the harbor. 

Hạ Long Bay, in northeast Vietnam, lies along the Northwestern coast of the South China Sea. It is known for its emerald waters and thousands of towering limestone islands topped by rain forests. Junk boat tours and sea kayak expeditions take visitors past islands named for their shapes, including Stone Dog and Teapot islets. Ha Long translates as 'where the dragon descends into the sea' and legend tells that this mystical seascape was created when a great mountain dragon charged towards the coast, its flailing tail gouging out valleys and crevasses. As the creature plunged into the sea, the area filled with water leaving only the pinnacles visible. Designated a World Heritage site in 1994, Ha Long Bay's spectacular scatter of islands are dotted with wind- and wave-eroded grottoes, and is a vision of ethereal beauty. Unsurprisingly, it is northern Vietnam's number one tourism hub. 

After exiting the bus we were ushered onto the Asian Dragon, which was one of many boats docked and waiting to pick up the constantly arriving passengers. We were seated at tables which were quickly filled with a large variety of foods, including one large whole fish with head, tail, and fins, which was the main feature of the lunch. After lunch we went up on the top deck to see our first views of the picturesque bay. The skies were a bit overcast because the rainy season is just now starting, yet visibility was good and the temperature was perfect for such an outing.

The boat meandered past many of the small islands which jutted out of the water like massive teeth. The tops were thick with vegetation and home to a variety of birds and wild monkeys. The sparkling waters were filled with all sorts of fish and the bay was home to many fishermen. Until recently, a whole community of fishermen and their families lived on the waters in floating homes. After the area became a World Heritage site, the floating village was dismantled and the fishermen were forced to leave. Many could not find work in the city and were allowed to return to the bay and and now whole families are living on tiny boats.

We arrived at our first stop and exited the boat on a large dock floating in the bay. We transferred to small six-person boats, each equipped with one of the locals who paddled us around. At the base of one of the islands was a cave which was naturally formed by erosion from wind and water. We entered the cave then after a few moments we exited into a secret secluded cove. High mountains flanked every side, and there was no way in or out of the area except from the small cave. There was no shore line either, just steep cliff walls on all sides. It was like being at the bottom of a very large pot.

After our small boat excursion, we were back on the main boat and then were taken to another location where we toured a natural cavern in one of the islands. We were told this was the largest of the 55 caves in the bay. Remarkably it was only discovered about 20 years ago by a local fisherman who was stranded on the island during a typhoon. He was looking for shelter from the storm and followed a monkey to a small hidden opening. He told of his discovery, which led to the cave being opened up to the public. It was truly a spectacle.

We finished the cave tour and boarded the boat once again for our voyage back to the main harbor. We transferred back to the bus and began our ride back to Hanoi. After a couple of hours on the road, all traffic stopped and we remained stationary for almost ninety minutes. By the time we arrived back to our hotel, it was pushing 11:00 PM. This was not only our last tour in Vietnam, it was our last day. We were scheduled to depart for the airport the following morning at 9:00 AM. 

Hoa Lu

When people who are familiar with present day Vietnam heard we were going for a visit, every response was similar. They said we would love it. At first the shock value of Hanoi was a bit hard to overcome, and to really see the country we had to leave the city. For our first out of town tour we decided to go 100 km south to the town of Hoa Lu. Hoa Lu was the first capitol, and was the economic, political and cultural center of Vietnam in the 10^th century. It is also the native land of the first two kings of Vietnam, and their bodies were buried and still remain in the area. We toured the temple areas and hiked the 400 steps up the mountain to see the tomb of one of the kings. The tomb was rather simple and not particularly worth the workout, but the views from the top were amazing.

We then drove to the nearby Ngo Dong River. After a buffet lunch we were escorted to the river and ushered onto a small flat bottom boat. The boats were powered by local villagers. Our ‘captain’ was a small indigenous woman who we guessed to be about 60 yrs old. She didn’t know a word of English, but that didn’t stop her from talking to us. Sometimes she would point a certain direction and rattle off in Vietnamese as if to give us some pertinent information about the area. Other times she would just talk to us with no indication of what she was talking about. Thankfully she wasn’t a very big talker, but she often engaged in brief exchanges with the captains of other passing boats.

The river was a popular tourist destination, and there were many of the small boats taking visitors up and down the river. The local ‘captains’ varied greatly; men, women, teenagers, even the elderly. All of these captains learned to paddle the boats with their feet. As soon as they picked up a new group of tourists they would lean back in their seats, grab the paddles with their feet, and away they went. Some were holding umbrellas to keep themselves out of the direct sunlight, and others were eating or doing other things with their hands to stay occupied.

 The Ngo Dong River winds slowly though a serene landscape rich in green patty fields, and flanked by tall mountains that jut straight up out of the ground. This very unique series of picturesque limestone mountains are tall with very steep sides which make them virtually impossible to climb. The river flows through several naturally formed caves at the base of the mountains. 

After about 45 minutes, we exited the third cave to find a group of small boats with ladies selling snacks and trinkets. When we showed some interest, one of the sellers took a coke, a package of nuts, and some sliced pineapple and handed it to the lady driving our boat and indicated to us that we should buy them for her. Understanding this was probably their regular procedure, we obliged and bought her the snacks. We got some sliced mango for ourselves and then started the 45 minute trip back up the river.

After returning to our starting point, and after everyone in our group returned, we climbed on bicycles and took a short ride along the old gravel roads of the nearby village. We stopped to watch a group of water buffalo trudging through the rice fields, and went to the river's edge to see the many boats still carrying tourists up and down the scenic river. Soon we were back on the bus and headed back to the busy city. It was a nice enjoyable day to experience these incredibly beautiful places. The bus ride home though is another story.

The traffic is problematic not only for the tourists. The locals also know it can be terrifying. We were told that there are about 10,000 deaths a year due to traffic accidents. For the most part, both the drivers and the pedestrians we observed seemed easy going and gently flowed with each other like a well-oiled machine. As with anything I guess, there is always a bad apple in every bunch. And today that bad apple happened to be driving our bus. 

When traffic is congested, drivers must cooperate with each other. But this driver was having none of it. He was going to be first, always, and he didn’t care if anyone else got hurt or if all the passengers were traumatized. First off he had a constant influx of cell phone calls and he answered every one, and not with a Bluetooth device or even a speaker phone like our previous bus drivers. He held the phone up to his ear with one hand and the steering wheel with the other. So we were already compromised in such heavy traffic with a one handed driver engaged in heavy conversation. He was driving well above the speed limit, and when vehicles were merging he would push in front of the other or just run them off the road. He would tailgate vehicles closely and slam on the brakes coming literally within an inch or two other vehicles. He would straddle the center line to make sure no vehicle passed him, and that he would have the first choice to move into whichever lane was moving more quickly. He weaved in and out of traffic even when there was no room to weave. He would just force the car next to him to stop or pull off the road. In one instance I watched helplessly as the bus swerved abruptly into the left lane and pushed a car off the road causing it to scrape the side railing. The driver never flinched; he was too busy with his phone conversation. Bryan was sitting up front right behind the driver, and Mark and I were on the back seat, so we had different perspectives of the chaos. The one consistent factor was sheer terror. The drive continued like this for over two hours and by the time we finally arrived at our stop the three of us were literally trembling. Bryan headed straight to the bathroom, Mark was in search of some alcohol, and I was trying to remember why we were ever worried about just crossing the street.

The Joy of Hanoi (part 1)

Trying to write about our experiences in Vietnam is like trying to describe a sunset to a blind man. A blog such as this is just a summarized diary of our experiences. Things are happening so fast it is proving to be way too much to keep up with. Rather than keep this blog in order by day or event, I have decided it best to just write paragraphs as I can, however random they may seem.

There are many things here in Vietnam that we don't understand. In fact, some things are so odd that it’s hard to even begin to guess what is happening. We have found ourselves frequently just staring, mouths gaping, unable to form a comment. Due to our ignorance, and remembering that we are in a socialist/communist country, we have been particularly nervous of breaking any rule that could land us in serious trouble. But what we have come to discover is just the opposite. There seems to be minimal interaction with the government among the people. Most people have a capitalist mindset and run their own businesses, apart from government control. Even regarding traffic enforcement, government interaction is at such a minimum that rules seem to be all but nonexistent. In fact, traffic is so out of control that street signs and traffic signals seem no more than just suggestions. On one of our tours, our taxi driver drove past our stop and then turned and drove the wrong way on a one-way street, going upstream and parting the oncoming traffic as if Moses were driving the cab. The traffic just calmly parted as if it was expected, and indeed it is.

On our first day in Hanoi we were at an intersection when the wail of sirens approached. We were at full attention, curious as to what was about to transpire. A small motorcade of about 20 motorcyclists came into view. They were uniformly dressed communist party soldiers riding in perfect formation, in two rows of ten bikes each. The front two bikes had long poles with flashing lights at the top, alerting traffic to their coming. They passed us and we watched anxiously to see what, or who, they were leading. At a certain point down the road, they made a U-turn and then passed us again on the other side, still in military formation, sirens blaring, and lights still flashing. As quickly as they appeared, they departed, fading into the distant traffic. Apparently the parade was over. Nothing else followed and traffic quickly returned to normal.  No motorcade, no government official, no anything. It was one of those moments when all we could do was stare.

Wires appear to be a national resource here. Electric wires, or telephone wires, (we can't tell exactly what they are for) are everywhere in abundance. In the United States we are used to only a few wires strung between poles, and maybe one coming from a pole to a house or other building. Here it is rare to see only a few wires on a pole. More readily seen are uncountable bundles of wires. The wires between poles are sometimes two or even more feet thick with maybe 100 or more wires in some places. Often they are so low to the ground that we had to duck to maneuver beneath them. And if that isn’t hazardous enough, many cut ends hang down, dangling for the unsuspecting tourist to accidentally grab. Sometimes the wires are piled up at the base of telephone poles, and so massive that they can cover half of the sidewalk. If anyone is missing a wire, I have a feeling I know where it is.

Translations from other languages into English often bring an unexpected smile to the American traveler. Japan is notorious for terrible and often hilarious translations. While we haven't spotted too many in Vietnam, there are still a few worth noting. There isn't a lot of English here, so when we spot a sign in English we make sure to read it. It’s no surprise that American fast food restaurants such as McDonalds and KFC would have some English signs, but I would expect them to get it right. But in the Pizza Hut near our hotel the restroom is clearly marked "Gas Room". Another curious sign was displayed in a McDonald's. It was simply black text on a red background and read "HI EVERYONE MY NAME IS HEAT TREAT, PLEASE PULL OUT ME EVERY TUESDAY, THANK YOU".

Pictures usually do a better job in conveying a message since they can transcend any language. But even images that should be universal can still be confusing. We found one such sign in a public restroom (As if there aren't bathroom oddities here anyway). This particular sign was made up of 7 

smaller panels, each meant to portray a particular bathroom do or don't. The first row was easy to decipher: sit on the potty, do not stand on the potty, throw trash in the waste basket, do not throw trash in the potty. Ok, so far it all makes sense. And two of the panels on the second row also make perfect sense: don't leave the water running after washing your hands, and no smoking. But one panel continues to confuse us. Our best guess is, no bringing your own water hose with you while washing your feet in the potty. 

In Hanoi, traffic is as abundant as flies on dung, and with no more organization. Every time we left the hotel it felt like our lives were in peril. Even walking on the sidewalk can be dangerous. Scooters, and sometimes even cars will drive on the sidewalk if it is the path of least resistance. And every open spot on the street or sidewalk makes an acceptable parking place, especially for the scooters. Walking, and even standing still requires keen observation and fast reflexes. While the sidewalks are perilous enough, trying to cross the road is like putting your last quarter in a defective video game. Traffic is thick and drivers take up every part of the road and refuse to follow the rules, and we can't count on traffic signals to stop the flow of traffic. We either join in the chaos or we never get to that Vietnamese restaurant. The first couple days it was terrifying. We walked well out of the way and waited long periods of time to find a break in traffic large enough to run across the road at full speed. Eventually we learned the secret to most street crossings by observing the locals and how they navigated the traffic. 

At the larger intersections, traffic can be coming from all four directions and never stop at all. The vehicles seem to easily weave in and out and around each other as smoothly as if it were orchestrated with the precision of a JFK control tower. The same goes for pedestrians. Rarely did we see people stopping at the curb. They just arrived at the street and walked right into traffic, magically emerging unhurt on the other side. At first this was quite perplexing, but we eventually learned that one of the secrets is consistency. Drivers watch the traffic and match the speed and direction of all the other vehicles and pedestrians. As long as no one abruptly changes direction or stops suddenly, then everyone gently adjusts and traffic flows smoothly. Should just one vehicle, or one frightened American tourist, suddenly stop or quickly change course, then all pandemonium breaks loose and someone gets hurt. At each crossing we would start chanting to ourselves “consistency, consistency, consistency” and walk forward calmly and smoothly. Occasionally we would lose focus and panic and make a run for it like a fat hen in Zambia, but we eventually found that was unnecessary.

Then we discovered the ultimate secret that helped us actually become comfortable crossing the street: The human shield. We assessed that the very best subjects to utilize were school children. They were fearless at crossings. We would stand around trying to look inconspicuous until an unsuspecting child would come by, then we would quickly cross also, with them on the side that faced the most amount of traffic. Success! We were so proud of ourselves with this discovery. Now we just have to wait and do all of our street crossing when school is out. 

Obama Combo

On our first day in Hanoi we were still apprehensive about leaving our hotel. Mark thought it would be a great idea to take an organized tour of the city to get acquainted with the place, so we signed up. We were the last of 19 tourists on the minibus. The tour was to last all day, and included lunch. Our first stop was to one of the cities many temples and pagodas. The next stop was to the mausoleum of the country’s famed ruler President Ho Chi Min, or Uncle Ho, as the people affectionately call him. We learned that he refused to live in the palace as long as the Vietnamese people still experienced extreme poverty. He chose to live in a modest and minimal home similar to the average Vietnamese family. (Any chance of Trump following suite?) We toured his home and grounds and then back to the bus.

On another stop we were taken to a place where handicapped people created art for sale. The guide explained that there was no welfare in the country, and even disabled people had to work for a living if at all possible. All proceeds for the sales went directly to the disabled. A large and poorly translated sign in the store read “All for Defective”. 

After another couple of short stops, we were dropped off at a restaurant for lunch, which was included in the price of the tour. It was absolutely delicious, whatever it was (we couldn't really tell, but at least it wasn't moving). Back on the bus, we were taken to a museum that highlighted the many minority tribes of indigenous Vietnam. We saw their traditional tribal costumes, learned of some of their customs, and saw many different styles of rough hewn homes made from materials locally available. Upon leaving the museum we were shuttled back to our hotel. 

While all the stops were interesting, by far the most captivating part of the tour was just seeing the people, the streets, and the traffic of Hanoi. We were repeatedly stunned by what we were seeing. The masses of people in the streets were amazing to behold; streets so packed with vendors and vehicles and people that it didn’t seem possible to have all that squeezed into the same area. Traffic was indescribable and often terrifying. The sheer number of scooters, cars and trucks on the roadway all zipping back and forth in every direction without any apparent direction left us speechless. There were traffic signs and signals yet it seemed that no one paid them any regard. There were so many vehicles that attempting to cross the street seemed like it was playing a real live game of Frogger, but with only one life to lose. Our guide told us the population of Hanoi was seven million, and there were approximately five and a half million motorbikes. We were terribly intimidated by the chaotic traffic to say the least. 

The tour definitely helped us get acquainted with the city, but it only strengthen our fear of going anywhere on foot. Still, we pushed through our fear and ventured out. That evening we went out in search of food and found that it was literally everywhere. The streets were lined with non-stop shops, restaurants, and street vendors. Food was plentiful, yet the condition of most places we saw made us too apprehensive to try them. Patrons sat in tiny little plastic stools like we would have in preschool back home, sitting around tiny little makeshift tables barely a foot off the ground. Owners were cooking the food on little grills right on the sidewalk, and dish washing was done at the curb using a large pan of water. Soap often appeared to be optional. Most of the eating places followed this pattern, yet the locals loved them and they were typically packed.

President Obama visited the city only a few months prior to our visit, and had some traditional Vietnamese food from a restaurant near our hotel. We decided to try that place since he obviously survived his experience. We easily located the restaurant, and come to find out they now only served one item on the menu: the Combo Obama. It was the same meal that he had and shared with TV personality Anthony Bourdain.

The place has become an attraction and business is booming for them. The restaurant was several levels high, but we found room on the second floor and decided not to ascend any higher. Pictures of Obama's visit were on every wall. There was absolutely no question we were in the right place. Unfortunately for me everything in the Obama Combo contained either shrimp or pork, so I wasn't even able to eat it. I had a drink as the others ate and grabbed a pizza for myself from the nearby Pizza Hut. After dinner, we made our way directly back to the hotel. Fortunately there were only a minimum number of streets to cross, which we were grateful for. We were still all quite terrified of crossing the streets as the traffic was just too overwhelming. We tried taking pictures, but the organized chaos in the streets and the frantic pace made it impossible to capture a good picture. We knew we would eventually have to face it again, but for the rest of the night we stayed safely tucked in our hotel.