Mar 2007

From the beaches of Nha Trang, I took another overnight bus to Hai An, a UNESCO World Heritage Site, because of its ancient Chinese history and architecture in this small Vietnamese town. A short walk from my 3-star hotel, An Phu, is the old town, where all the local markets and tourist stores are located within a number of old Chinese temples. I feel like walking in a TV or movie set, only missing is the film crew and my traditional Chinese costume, replacing these is the motor bikes and 'farangs'.

Overnight buses can be very tiring, yet for budget travellers like myself, it is also the best and most economic way to go from one town to another. The night bus from Hoi An to Hanoi proved to be a test to my patience. Vietnam drivers love to honk for anything in their way, more so than in Cambodia. Because of the large number of modern cars as well as motorcycles on the streets, sleeping under constant honking is virtually impossible. Not only did my inconsiderable driver play loud Cheesy English club songs to wake up his passengers, he stopped at a local canteen with sanitary standard so low that if I had lunch earlier that day, I would not submit myself to a bowl of nasty noodle soup and then got overcharged without the ability to talk myself out with the rude waiters. Little did I know that this is only the beginning.

By the time we pulled into the humidity of Hanoi, local people already crowded the streets on their motorcycles to work. The gloomy town looked and felt miserable compared to the rest of Vietnam. Once we got off the bus, taxi drivers started to hassle us and offered to take us to the 'Old Town' area for free. Of course, he dropped us off at an old guesthouse/travel agency outside of the area and asked us to pay. Together with two other women from Hong Kong, we managed to struggle off the rude driver and took another taxi with meter to find our own guesthouse.

Courtesy is applied with prejudice here. If you are asian tourist not in a group tour, most cold Hanoiese will just ignore you to a point you actually feel unwelcome. Otherwise, you will be treated as an ATM machine. The first guesthouse receptionist made it pretty clear that we are disturbing his work whe we asked for rooms. After couple trials, we managed to find a decent guesthouse but then I found out everything in my backpack is damp and smells. Finally, I sit on my bed, can't wait to start planning for my departure date.

The area surrounding the lake is full of tourist shops selling everything from T-shirts to silk clothing to flags to grave stone. The famous tourist attraction near Hanoi, Halong Bay, was the main reason I went there. But at this point, I was so tired of being treated with bad courtesy and as ATM machine that I decided to skip the tourist-infested Halong Bay area. On the morning of my third day, after another crazy taxi ride to the airport, I flew to Bangkok, again.

It must be a special day when I arrived in Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon). Just the sheer number of motorbikes on the streets rivals the bees on a beehives. Crossing a small street with no traffic lights proved to be a real challenge especially when you are carrying a large backpack. Nevertheless, I made it in one piece.

After settling down in a guesthouse, I had two delicious bowls of Vietnamese noodle (Pho) at a small local restaurant where Bill Clinton ate when he came to Saigon in the late 90s. I then took a 1-hour cyclo ride around town.

The next day, I visited the Ho Chi Minh museum and the war museum, where photos and details of the Vietnam war were echibited. Pictures of torture of women and children by American soldiers and victims of chemical warfare were vividly displayed in front of our eyes, with 300o tons bombs, tanks and fighter planes outside. I wonder if these photos are on shown front-page major newspapers in the States, will the public be more outspoken enough to change a regime which see war as nothing but a money-making tool.

I escaped Saigon quickly and arrived at Nha Trang, a beach resort for locals and tourists, after an overnight bus ride. This is my first time on this trip to see the ocean. Since there are many Chinese-Vietnamese here, I seldom get hassled by local women selling chewing gums or peanuts. While most foreigners lay under the sun for hours, locals sit and enjoy the breezy weather under coconut trees in groups. I enjoyed a nice walk along the Nha Trang beach on a Saturday night watching familes and children.

After a month stay at Muang Ngoi, I finally headed south to Luang Prabang, a world heritage town, for a few days, then to Vientiane, capital of Laos. Because of its history and location (next to Mekong River), most buildings in Luang Prabang are French colonial styled. To accomodate the large number of tourists, the city is also full of trendy restaurants and a great night market. With the assistance of my local friends, I even bought a traditional Laos skirt. Vientiane, in comparison, is not as interesting, however, it is probably the most laid-back capital city in the world with only a few large hotels, motorbikes and SUVs.

A 10-hour bus ride took me from Vientiane to Pakse, a typical small Laos town with plenty of guesthouses and a few wats (temples). From Pakse, I took a 2-hr minibus to Doi Det, the border of Laos and Cambodia. Because of the many islands here on the Mekong River, it is also called the 'Four Thousand Islands'. Since there is only a few hours of electricity at night and high humidity, I quickly moved on to cross the border the next day, after a nice relaxing boat trip at sunset.

My first day in Cambodia turned out to be a surprise. The people at my guesthouse invited me and another American couple to a local wedding after a boat ride for dolphin-watching. The abundance of cheap beer and good food provided everyone a great time that night.

From Kratie, a 6-hr bus ride took me to the capital of Cambodia, Phnom Penh, a city that went through very much in recent history. After a short visit to the Royal Palace, I visited Tuol Sleng, the Genocide Museum, which used to be a local high school. Only 30 years ago, the Poi Pet regime had massacred about 14000 people at this school over a 4 year period. Photos of victims and torture tools filled the museum with a chilly atmosphere.

From Phnom Penh, I took a 'very long' local bus to Siam Reap, where the famous Angkor Wat is. As impressive as it is, the whole Angkor Wat was filled with tourists from sunrise to sunset. The town Siam Reap is, as a result, packed with luxurious resorts for all types of tourists, esp. Japanese and Korean. Compared with the shanty houses along the same avenue with disabled children running around with no underpants, one has to wonder if Angkor Wat actually benefits local economy or just a tourist trap?

How long can your concentration span in an old dirty classroom on a 30C and 90% humidity day with no fan or AC, listening to a teacher speaking in a language you barely know?

After 'sweating' a day with a few other volunteers at Prey Chrok Primary School about 45 minute from Siam Reap, I realize that weather is the last concern for these students from surrounding villages, opportunities is their priorty. Although a nearby wedding caused the attendance drop somewhat, the remaining 30 or so students in each class still participate eagerly during the one-hour class.

We met outside the SAGE agency in Siam Reap around 6:30am and began the one-hour minivan journey west on a bumpy dirt road. Perhaps I am of asian-origin, by the time we arrived at the school, many eyes were locked on me. I was there to research and take photos for a new website.

Since the English program started around Oct 2006 at Prey Chrok, most students seem to have already known the alphabets well. However, most have a hard time understanding what the teachers want to achieve in the exercises because of the lack of translation.

Perhaps it was a slow day, most other classes were idle with local teachers chatting with each other in the school yard while we taught inside the sauna classroom.

To be honest, after the first three classes and 100 photos, I felt embarassed at my own impatience because of the heat and humidity. The same material began to sound monotonous, like mosquitoes flying in my ear. But every time we walked into a new classroom, enthusiasm of the new students, like caffeine, refueled me.

What in the world can be more satisfying than bringing opportunities to children in the developing countries?