The Duck Quacked On the Way Out

Leg 8: Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam to Hong Kong to China

I had no want or desire to go back into Global, so I stayed outside on the fifth deck for a short time and watched us sail down the Saigon River. Being this giant ship in this tiny river really is a sight to see. Much more of a sight than Global ever will be.

But nonetheless, I went inside as I think I would have been chased inside if I stayed outside. Believe it or not, Global wasn’t that bad today, as it was mostly Chinese history of the past fifty or so years, starting with the Cultural Revolution. What made Global doable today was that the vast majority of it was a video about Tiananmen Square. I’d always known about the incident that occurred, but I never knew the background story and details, and learning about it was absolutely fascinating. The story is heart wrenching and unbelievable what was done to the Chinese citizens. I never knew that it was that close to ending communist rule in China.

What is even more fascinating was something I learned at some point later. There’s a student on board that is from China that attends school in the states, and he said that he never knew about what happened in Tiananmen Square at all. It’s not taught, mentioned, or spoke of at all throughout the country. That astonishes me. That in today’s world information is controlled is a bit science fiction-esque for me.

After our decent Global (and I say that cautiously), we still had about two more hours to go until we exited the river and emerged back out into open water, so I parked myself on the back of the ship to watch the world go by again. I still kept a watchful eye in the event that we overturned any smaller fishing craft, but I did not see any of that happening, and I was watching our wake and some of the smaller boats. Some went for a ride, but it appears that all boats survived unscathed for the remainder of our exit of Vietnam.

By the time we were out of the river, it was time for lunch and I was a bit hot from sitting outside in the sun for the past few hours, so I went in to cool off and hold off for a few minutes before I headed over to what I was sure was going to be a stellar lunch. As usual, I was wrong, and it was far from stellar. Everything is tasting the same, and that’s not a good thing.

In the afternoon, I think I actually took a thousand pages of notes in my cinema class. It may have been a thousand. The professor put up slides that were so chock full of stuff that she told us not to bother writing it all down and she would put it on the ship intranet. Still, that’s a thousand pages of notes that I’d have to write down in the near future.

After my cinema class, I had a reaction paper to write for my cinema class. With available time dwindling as fast as a Vietnamese motorbike rider, I’m really finding that planning out my time is becoming more important, and subsequently exponentially difficult. Nonetheless, I was able to get that paper done; the prodding was that if I didn’t get it done now, it wasn’t going to get done for weeks.

Around 5, I had to go to the Union because two of my professors decided to show us all a video in lieu of going to the next class. Now that’s really killing two birds with one stone for me. I’m sure the video was about China, and more specifically I’m sure it had something to do with its history and art, as those were the two classes I was getting credit for by showing up. I also handed in the paper that I had just spent my afternoon completing. The video was almost an hour and the quality clearly indicated its age to be at lest ten or fifteen years old. The narrator was quite funny – but wasn’t trying to be. In the end, I think it was either about the Tang or Qing dynasty. (Those dynasties are only separated by about 100o years…)

A few of my friends were also at the video so we went straight to dinner afterwards. We’d decided that somehow this trip is beginning to bring itself to a close and there’s no reason why we shouldn’t be eating every meal off the back deck as opposed to inside. We can eat inside when we get back home, but eating on the back of the ship, watching the sunset is something that’s going to go away, and we’re going to miss it when it does. There’s a few tricks to eating outside, and most involve where to sit and where not to sit. If you sit by the doors, every time they open a cold jet of air chills you, and if you sit in direct sunlight, and it’s early enough, it gets really hot and uncomfortable. So finding that butter zone of tables is quite tricky, especially if a bunch are taken when you get there, because there are far more people wanting to eat on the back deck than there are tables.

After dinner Tom, one of the RDs (resident directors), was going to show me and a couple other people how to make origami flowers. The kids on the ship were working on origami cranes to deliver to the peace park when we arrived in Japan. They were aiming for 1000. I was wishfully thinking for ~800 – one for every person at the Ambassador’s Ball. The idea being that each person would have one on their plate when they sat down for dinner. And to this point, I had not made one of the flowers, so needless to say, there would be a challenge sitting in front of me and my Ambassador’s Ball crew.

So, I met up with Tom and a couple other people to learn how to do this. To give you an idea, it took him about 10 minutes to get the first one done, and by the time I finally got one together, it was nearly another ten minutes later. This was not nearly as easy as I had expected it to be and really cast the idea of putting 800 of these together within the next few weeks into doubt. He had to depart after we started to pick up the idea, but a few of us stayed back to try to learn how to do this folding stuff. Those are really clever Japanese to put together an incredibly complicated series of folds to make a beautiful paper flower.

We stayed in the back of the empty room until I noticed that it started to fill up with people. I figured that something was going on and we might have to leave, which was all well and good because there was a big global studies exam the next day that I really needed to start studying for. I soon realized that it was a community college thing – an informal talk the ship’s doc was giving about medical myths. I figured I’d stay around for a while because it sounded interesting. That, and I felt guilty leaving once everyone started coming in the room.

I paid attention while I sat in the back trying to remember how to fold these annoying flowers, and believe it or not the stuff the doc was talking about was pretty interesting. It was a bit about how some doctors don’t think that their patients are smart enough to make an informed decision and how the group he works for is a place that provides the patient with all the information about whatever they’ve got so that they can make an informed and proper decision about their health. One thing he talked a bunch about was prostate cancer and how some people decline the results of their test because they don’t want to know if they have it or not because they could have it, but go on to lead a completely normal and healthy life for another fifty years and never have a problem, or they could learn the results and possibly have a lower quality of life over those fifty years because they know they’re living with cancer. There’s much more to it and it was fascinating and lets me know what to look for in a doctor as time goes on.

All in all, I was very glad that I decided to stay and listen to Dr. Matt rather than going off to study for my global exam. It’s absolutely worth the lower possible score. It also made me think that there were a slew of other community college events throughout the voyage that I glanced over and now I’m thinking that I might have wanted to go to a few of the previous ones, but I’m not going to sit and bemoan about it.

After that, I actually had to get my rear in gear for studying and I hurriedly did as much as I could before I passed out, and I think that was coming sooner rather than later. I wouldn’t say that I was cramming because that would indicate that I stayed up late and tried to fit as much info in my head as possible. I didn’t do either. I went to bed shortly thereafter and stopped studying immediately when my head reached a saturation point.

When I woke up in the morning, I did some firm studying for the exam during breakfast and I was rather satisfied with what I was able to accomplish so I felt prepared for it. My location for taking the exam is the Union and it was more full than normal because we’re not in any rough seas. The last exam we took had some people go down for the count before the exam because the Union is the worst place on the ship to be if the seas are rough – unless you’re me and the seas don’t bother you at all and it all seems like a really fun ride.

I didn’t think the exam to be all that bad, and that could be a good sign or a bad sign. I’ll find out whenever scores are posted for the exam, which might be as soon as this afternoon if the past is no indication. As I usually do at the conclusion of an exam, I like to relax a bit and hang out on the back deck and let the joy of completing that exam wash over me. I don’t know why I started going out on the back deck, but this is the third of four exams and I’ve done it after both of the previous two.

But I couldn’t relax for long as I had a mission to accomplish with my Ambassadors Ball Seating Lieutenant Katie. Now that we had everybody signed up for the ball, and Kaite spent most of yesterday finding a table for everybody, we have to go through all 800 participants and make sure that they paid and that they’re assigned one seat apiece. Not two or zero seat apiece, just one. Because if there’s an issue with seating, this is where it might spring up. So, we have a long and tedious process before us that we’d like to finish as soon as possible so that we can post the seating arrangements.

One by one, Katie read out a name on a table from her spreadsheet, and I checked it off on my master spreadsheet. That way, along the way we will know if someone is in there twice, or not at all. After everyone is in, we compare my master spreadsheet with the giant packet of signatures for those who paid and make sure everyone assigned a seat paid the $25 fee. It’s not something that’s going to be quick to finish and it’s not something that I can say I’m really looking forward to, but it’s something I’ve got to get done with Katie if we’re going to have a successful ball.

Because I didn’t have my art class today due to the video yesterday about one of the Chinese dynasties, we worked through lunch and well into the afternoon to get as much done as we could on the list. Once we got about halfway through the list (about four hours later) we decided to call it a day.

Then I went upstairs to see if the exam scores were up, and they were. I got a 72 and I could not have cared less. The next item on my agenda was to find paper to use for folding those 800 flowers I decided to commission – an idea that is slowly become more of a regret than a brilliant brainwave. Everyday at sea a Dean’s Memo is published and it has all the important events of the upcoming days. It’s something I will have to increasingly use for ball stuff. But it’s printed on colored paper, and that’s ideal for the flowers. It’s recycling at its finest. The trick is finding the old paper. I scoured the ship and procured a decent amount that was still only about a tenth of the amount of paper we’ll need – but hey, it’s a start.

Being as busy as we are, being in port more than on the ship the past few weeks, my room has gotten a little on the cluttered side and I was starting to not be able to find anything, so I figured a little planned cleaning would be a really good idea. But I noticed something that suddenly seemed like it might be a problem. Laundry went out early yesterday morning, and for me to have sufficient clothes for my five day trip in China, that laundry would need to come back. I put absolutely as much as I can into each laundry bag, which means that I only leave a few days of clothing out while it’s out being washed. The thought that my laundry might not be back until after I have to fly out of Hong Kong was starting to creep into my head. I pushed it back out as I was sure that it would be back if not tomorrow morning, then the morning after. Surely it would.

And now that we have decided to enjoy our meals outside on the back deck, it was cloudy at sunset today. I’m hoping this doesn’t become the norm. After dinner I had another paper to write, this one for my history class. It’s not that it’s a tough paper to write, it’s just the act of typing it out that’s going to be tough to muster the ability to do.

While I was out and about during the day, I wore my Lost shirt with the numbers on it (4 8 15 16 23 42) and people kept thinking that they were some sort of pattern. I told everyone what they were, with one exception. My RD Dan was bent on figuring out the pattern because he loves that kind of stuff – and because he was on duty working the student life desk and was bored. So I didn’t tell him that there was no pattern and said I’d come back later. When I came back later, he still hadn’t figured it out, but he thought he was close. I told him what they were and surprisingly I don’t think he was annoyed. It gave him something to do while he was on duty.

And at the end of the day, even though we were sailing almost due north, we had to lose another hour of sleep. And each one always hurts more than the last.

In the morning I opened my door expecting to see my laundered clothes, but instead found my roommate’s laundered clothes. I figured mine would be back the following day, but I would be forced to take some precautions in the afternoon. We had another really boring lecturer in global. It’s too bad that this class can only have one interesting day per month. And we used that up two days ago.

For the remainder of the morning, Katie and I finished double-checking our seating and there were only two or three small issues that came up, but those small issues could have been much bigger if we didn’t double-check and let them slide. With that long, tedious, and arduous task behind us now, we should be able to post the seating arrangement after China, as a few people still need to be added to the ball, even though that window of opportunity closed before Vietnam. There’s always excuses.

In my cinema class in the afternoon, we’re watching a bizarre movie about children performers in China, and while it’s a film and not a documentary, the scenes of the children being beaten was a little too much for me to handle. I know I’m exposing myself to other cultures, but I’m thinking that this may have been a little further than I was willing to go. I didn’t watch vast portions of it and can’t really tell you what was going on. It’s all in Chinese, and when I’m not looking at the screen I can’t see the subtitles, so I lose that important element.

And it was an odd numbered B day, so it was my day to visit with the dependent kids. As usual, I can never seem to find something to do or a way to make best use of my talents, so I started folding the flowers again and then tried to show the kids how to do it, and their learning curve was about as long as mine was, but their attention span is far shorter. I knew that I had to learn how to fold these flowers, and the kids don’t have anything riding on it, so if they didn’t get it, there was nothing off their back. So by the end, I had another small tower of flowers that I’d have to keep in the room.

We did dinner out on the back deck again this evening, and somehow I always seem to position myself away from the sunset, so it’s always behind me. That’s incredibly inconvenient when I’m trying to eat and watch the sunset. There’s a lot of craning behind me. But we’re still holding true to our promise to eat out there and that’s what matters.

As always before we pull into a port, we had a meeting for our trips, and I was glad to see that I would have a bunch of friends on the trip, as well as having it led by Professor Simon and his wife Ann Claire, both of whom are wonderful. They were married just before the trip left. The trip we’re taking in China looks like a doozy. It’s the longest that I’m taking. Most other trips were four days, and this one is five. And instead of two plane flights, we’ve got three. It’s a big trip, then again, we’re going to China, which is its own journey in and of itself. Also on the trip is Dr. Matt and his family. Just like Brenda the nurse in India, having a doc on the trip is just that added bit of assurance that in case something were to happen, I’d be able to get well-qualified medical treatment. (And wouldn’t you know that this was the trip where I’d actually need a doctor. But more on that later.)

Because we were going on a five-day trip, I would need five days worth of clothing. My laundry wasn’t back yet and I had three sets of clean clothes in the closet. That meant that those two sets of dirty clothes in the closet would have to be washed in the sink, and I did that after the trip meeting and before preport, hoping that they’d be able to dry by the morning. Once off the ship I would learn that an effective way to start the drying of the clothes is to lay the wet clothing on a towel and roll the two together really tightly, squeezing them so the water transfers into the towel. I wish I had known that now. I hung the wet clothes up in the shower.

Once I finished washing those two sets of clothes, I started packing for the trip so I wouldn’t have to do that in the morning. The idea for this trip is that we’d be moving around so much that I didn’t want a heavy backpack. But because China was going to be the first country we visit that’s a bit cooler (Hanoi-like) I need to pack a few of the heavier clothes, so I needed to pack smart. I did as best as I could and was glad that I didn’t have to pack bug spray for once. I’m done and fed up with that stuff. I don’t want to have to use that again for anything. That stuff was just as annoying as the malaria pills.

Then, much to my chagrin, we had an Ambassadors Ball meeting before the preport, and the attendance was quite low. At this point, I’ve disowned decorations and if we have any for the ball, it’s an added bonus. I’ve got more important things to do than beat people over the head to buy decorations. The turnout was also a bit disheartening if for no other reason than we’re in the home stretch now. Now is when we need the commitment, but drumming it up is becoming increasingly difficult.

Our ports being so close together now, we have combined logistical and cultural preport together. They’re really pushed together for the fact that it’s less for the deans to prepare and they get an extra day to do it. I’m not complaining – it’s easier for my schedule. I’m not saying that some parts of the preport were boring, but I found a number of opportunities to fold flowers in it. And towards the end, I was hoping that a dos and don’ts section would be included considering that it’s China and there have got to be at least a few dos and don’ts to know, but instead Julie Strand came out again and did her awful schpiel about music. The music isn’t the problem. Julie is the problem. And I can’t stand her anymore.

So, if you can remember way back, Joan is one of the lifelong learners whose son flew down to South Africa for the safari, and then flew back. And I met her daughter Cindy when I crashed the Lifelong Learner Sea Social. And tonight the whole family invited their adopted sea family, of which I am now apparently part of, up to their ‘penthouse suite.’ I call it a penthouse suite because the rooms are quite extravagant and large, being all the way up on Deck 7.

The rooms have got real stone in the bathroom, a bathtub, a king size bed, a sofa that converts into a pull-out bed, big television, a private outdoor deck – it’s essentially a very nice hotel room on a ship. So Joan and the real family had the sea family, about five of us up to her room for cookies. They ordered a tray up from the kitchen and I have no idea where these cookies have been hiding the entire voyage, but I couldn’t get enough of them. It was actual tasty food, albeit falling apart in my hand from the grease and fat content.

What was also fun about the night was that the Captain turned the exterior lights off so that we could look at the stars. While there were still some lights on here and there, the sky was very pretty. It was a very nice evening before we all go our separate ways again when we dock tomorrow. And Joan and her son and daughter could not be more polite and wonderful. I had a very nice time. I think she could have served broccoli flowerets and I would have had a wonderful time.

And because we pull into port tomorrow, I’ve got to get up early for the possible sunrise. So I promptly went to bed.

Hong Kong

There was no sunrise. It was cloudy and threatening rain, even at 6:30 when I woke up, which pained me to do so. I thought about going back to bed, but decided to stay awake and have breakfast instead. Maybe I’d be able to fall asleep on the flight. (Yeah, right.) It was a very eerie, misty, Hanoi-like atmosphere outside and I didn’t see any land, which is never a good sign when we’re due in port. With the exception being that I do believe there was fog and that was not all resultant from pollution – maybe some, but no Vietnam levels.

As each port we pull into is a completely different experience, Hong Kong was no different. I’m not sure of the waterways of the area, but as we moved through the water, there would be land on the port side of the boat and we would think that Hong Kong would be there, then it would turn into a sheer cliff face and then the starboard side would look like it could have really tall buildings coming up, then that island would end. So it became a very long process of looking back and forth and wondering when Hong Kong would present itself, and which side of the ship it would be on – we were taking bets. I’ve got some lovely photos of what I thought was the city, but turned out to be not the city.

Not Hong Kong:















(And please note when I refer to Hong Kong, I’m referring to the city portion. Everything you are seeing, and what I was seeing was the country of Hong Kong, but we’re looking for the world famous city.)

Even though there are buildings, still not Hong Kong:















Getting desperate, I turned the camera around to the back of the boat, and still did not find Hong Kong:















But finally, and those of you who selected the port (left) side of the ship won the bet, Hong Kong appeared:















What’s interesting about Hong Kong is that there is the city proper portion and then other areas around. Across the waterway, where we docked, is called Kowloon. Here’s a photo of me in front of the other side, Kowloon:















One of the students on the ship, who has lived in Hong Kong likens the relationship of Hong Kong to Kowloon as that of New York City to Brooklyn, if you know what I mean. And in case you haven’t already guessed it, it’s cheaper to dock in Kowloon than Hong Kong.

So often we feel like we’re on another planet on this trip because we are so removed from our lives. But this morning was something that reminded us we were on Earth. Just as we were starting to pull up to the dock, one of the professors said he was reading on-line about a shooting at Virginia Tech. Information was hard to come by and there was at best minimal to go on, but on a ship of college students, it all struck a bit of a chord with us. It produced a weird combination of feeling sorrow for what was happening in our country and the fact that we were just about to be let loose in a new country.

In lieu of a person from the consulate coming on board to talk to us before disembarking, it was decided that Desi would say a few words about what was happening back home. He was very eloquent and it felt right. Usually at the briefings, the attendance is low, but there was standing room only in the Union and satellite rooms. We were looking for information, or just a little centering. And we got what we needed, I think.

The term ‘departure upon arrival’ seems odd, but it applied to me. My China trip had to leave the ship first, before anyone else was to be let off at all. We had a flight to catch. This is the kind of morning where I wonder if the ship is going to dock on time, but it appeared that we were going to be on schedule, and I wasn’t concerned for some reason. It was a welcome change of pace.

Once the ship was cleared by immigration, we departed – having just arrived in port. I would have really liked to have seen more of Hong Kong than just the view we got from the ship on the other side of the waterway, but I’ve got bigger stuff to do on the way.

Instead of leaving the ship on Deck 2, we left on Deck 5 – but! – we did not have to walk down the giant staircase as Hong Kong is civilized and has a walkway that extended onto the ship. Unfortunately, it extended onto the area reserved for the smokers, and they were in full force when we were leaving. Aside from that unpleasantness waiting in line to leave, I was off the ship yet again, ready for another new adventure. (And what an adventure this trip would be…)

We loaded up onto buses and I was hoping that we would be driving through Hong Kong to get to the airport, but it turns out that we have to drive a half hour in the opposite direction, so there went Hong Kong. We did pass the exit for Hong Kong Disney along the way though. I had a few friends go there and they said that they had a good time and it was fun. Anyway, I was hoping for some scenery on the way to the airport to take photos of. This is the best I could come up with:















Needless to say, if there was stuff to see, I either missed it or was unable to get my camera on it fast enough. So, we get to the airport, and after months of the ship people telling us about travel restrictions and airport security, we finally arrived at an airport that seemed to actually have tight security. They checked our bags for liquids and had us bag them (a first,) they had us go through two metal detectors that we both operational (a first,) and they would not let us bring liquids on the plane at all (a first.) If that happened in some other countries, I may have been in trouble.

Nobody seemed to know what was going on, but moreso than usual. The security threw us all for a bit of a loop. The group consensus was that we would all meet at the gate by boarding time, and we had a couple hours to kill until that happened. So my group and I wandered around looking for something to entertain ourselves with. And then we found our salvation: the food court.

Hong Kong is a lovely country if for no other reason that they have Western amenities, like a Ben & Jerry’s (Penn State grads I might add.) I think the rest of my group went to Burger King for lunch, but that’s one Western amenity I can do without. Ben & Jerry’s for brunch sounded lovely to me. And, with my cup of ice cream, I get a free cookie at the store two spots over. Is that a deal, or is that a deal?

After we enjoyed our brunch, we looked at our watches and figured that it looked about time to start walking to the gate, wherever it was. First, we had to go down to the lower level where all the gates were, and when we stepped off the escalator, we came upon a rather odd-looking vending machine.



















We moved closer to look what was inside, and we quickly came to realize that there was no food inside the vending machine…















…there were purses. What a country! Purses in a vending machine!? What will they think of next. We didn’t need any extra purses, so we didn’t need to purchase one. But we came to understand why purses were being sold – we passed just about every store there was on the way to the gate, and it just so happened our gate was about as far away as it could be. And if you know airports, that’s quite a long distance. But we budgeted time for that so we weren’t in any kind of rush, and that’s why we went in and out some of the stores.

Asia is known for having some really cool technology stuff, so we ducked into a high-tech looking store, and while the stuff in the store looked fun, something struck me as odd. There was a display case with the most popular CDs and DVDs, and the same person was at the top of both – Madonna. I had no idea that she had such a large following in Asia. And on every television in the store was the Madonna DVD playing. It’s like she’s some kind of demigod out here.

Eventually we schlepped all the way out to the gate, where most of the rest of the group already was. Apparently they didn’t see the need to eat or be entranced by Madonna along the way. We still had about fifteen minutes before boarding was supposed to start, but because we were flying, there was no way this flight was boarding on time. I don’t understand the concept of not boarding on time. To pass the time there was a bookstore across from the gate and I bemused myself there for a while. You would think that we were back in the US – nearly all the titles were in English. I would have bought one if I didn’t already have one, and had the gusto to want to lug one all over China. But if you looked around, you could tell we were out of the US – the newspapers were not in English, and there was a fairly large ‘dirty’ section, if you know what I mean.

Once boarding started, everyone again jumped up to get on line, and I sat back with my group telling them that there was no reason to stand in that long line – unless they really needed sufficient room to stow their backpacks. Because that’s actually what you lose when you wait to board. We forgot about that at the time, so our stuff crammed under the seat in front of us and gave us no leg room.

To my delight, we were in a big airplane – apparently Hong Kong to Beijing is a popular transit. The seats were arranged 2/4/2, which seemed like an unusual configuration to me. Why not 3/3/3? I guess that means that the most people you’ll have to climb over is one, but that takes all the fun out of flying.

As we taxied out to the runway, the television screens came to life with what to do in the event of an emergency, and people acting out the events. There is nothing like seeing people in jumpsuits use the escape slide parachute. It’s something I hope to not see for real, especially if they’re going to make us put on blue jumpsuits before leaving the airplane. But after that message ended, and the flight attendants took their seats, we saw this:















If you don’t like looking out the window for take-off, having a view from the nose is scary. But Vietnam had screens at the nose, too. How was China Air different? Once we made it into the air, the camera switched from the front of the plane to look directly below us to watch the ground go by. Now that’s truly frightening. I couldn’t watch that one.

Leg 9: Hong Kong to Beijing, China

Since the horrific flights in Brazil, my flights since have been quite calm. That was bound to change. For such a large plane, it sure bounced around a lot. I started to develop a bit of a white knuckle grip on my seat. To make matters more interesting, I had no idea how long a flight from Hong Kong to Beijing would be. It could be an hour or three hours or more and I would have no idea. I forgot to look. So, here I am on a turbulent airplane for an indeterminate amount of time, waiting for something to get my mind off. Then the movie screens started to lower and a movie started to play. Figuring that I was in Asia, we would be getting some wacky film I’d never seen or heard of, and certainly not dubbed in English. But then came on The 40-Year-Old Virgin in English. No one was more surprised that me.

Apparently the flight was close to two hours because they cut the film off before it was over as we were preparing for landing. And I never found out how it ends! And I want to know. It was a good movie, too. I’m going to have to search for it now.

China

I was quite happy to be back on the ground – as well as watch the TV screens as we approached the runway. That’s a bit nerve-racking, and is why I’m not going to be a pilot now or ever. This is the one point in the trip where I go from one country to another without being on a boat between.

It took a short time to realize it, but soon I made it sink in that I was in China. Land of myth and legend, and one of, if not the oldest civilization on Earth. China did what the ancient civilizations of Rome, Greece, and Egypt failed to do – survive to 2007. I was in Red China. I think it really hit me in line at customs. In which I again picked the quickest line and was quite happy about that. I never like looking the customs person in the face, they never seem happy to be there. China was no different.

After customs we went through the maze that is part of every airport to get to the baggage claim area. Here, there were stations where we had to fill out what we were declaring and bringing into the country, and then we would hand these to somebody on the way out. I don’t get how some people wouldn’t put the wrong info on the card, but I don’t want to find out what would happen. I filled mine out honestly.

There were no signs announcing that we had to fill out these wacky cards either, apparently we just had to figure it out. But because we weren’t in Brazil, there were directions in Chinese and English. It seemed like we were there forever, but that might be because everyone wanted to make a pit stop in the bathroom before leaving and it was so far away – we literally had to walk three or four minutes to reach the bathroom, and then back again, so needless to say, it delayed us a bit.

Once we went through the area where we had to hand in our forms, our tour guides met us on the other side. In every other country (even in the Amazon) our guides had to wear official clothing of their tour company. When I was river rafting in South Africa, the guide changed from his suit to rafting wear, then back to the suit for the drive back. Here, our guides were dressed like college students. No identification, but they did have a flag on a stick. They were dressed more casual than we were. I didn’t get it. I figured China would be a country where we could almost guarantee the guides would be dressed professionally.

Anyway, once we all gather we head outside and I really make an impression. Less than a couple minutes outside of the airport, I was concerned the police would be coming after me and locking me into a prison, never to see the light of day again. So here’s what happened: we walked out of the airport and started meandering through the parking lot, and I was talking to someone and was looking around, and essentially was barely paying attention to where I was going. I snapped my head to look where I was going, and before I knew it, there was a short Chinese woman right in my way, and I was not going to miss her, and I barreled right into her. I did react in time to prevent her falling to the ground because I grabbed her shoulders in a death grip. Once we were stabilized, I could have let go, but was unable to. My mind could not process I bumped into this woman and resultantly forgot to let her go. So about five whole seconds of immobility elapsed before I let her go and started apologizing profusely – but in English. She had no idea what I was saying, so I digressed into exaggerated facial expressions in a very poor game of charades. She gave a light smile and kept walking. I finally was able to push myself to keep moving with my group. And they saw the whole thing and badgered me about it for the rest of the day. Welcome to China! As long as that woman didn’t send the police after me, I wasn’t going to worry. That’s why once the bus left the parking lot I breathed a short sigh of relief.

I’ve seen lots of rush hours around the world now, but China may take the cake. India rush hour was heavy, but everyone moved a speeds far too high for safe driving – and everyone was driving different vehicles – a veritable cornucopia of automobiles. Vietnam had motorbike-dominated streets, but because they’re motorbikes and everyone somehow understands the traffic patterns, traffic moves. In China, the volume was not nearly as high as India and Vietnam, and the traffic moved at a snail’s pace.

Most of the vehicles were larger things like cars, buses, trucks and vans. To pass the time from the drive to the hotel, we started to observe some of the scenery. We found the electric company’s van.















As funnily as we looked at them, they looked back at us in an even funnier way. It’s like we were some kind of tourists taking photos of banal stuff. Oh, wait we were – I called it ‘returning the favor.’

Little did I know that the clear blue skies that began to disappear as the sun set would be the last time that I would see the sun in China. It was such a nice day that I figured that the next day would be like that also, but that would be an incorrect assumption as I would soon find out.

After what seemed like a very long time (because it was) we neared the hotel. But along with the traffic on the way, what else astonished me was the amount of KFCs about. KFCs are everywhere. You would think that Beijing invented the Kentucky Fried Chicken. It was unbelievable. I think I saw ten KFCs for each McDonald’s throughout Beijing. They were everywhere. And I couldn’t stand seeing it that often. The Beijing residents must clearly enjoy their KFC.

Finally we arrived at the hotel, here it is pictured below:















It was a nice place. Curvy but nice. It explains part of why the trip was as pricey as it was, I guess. We essentially had enough time to head up to the room, freshen up, then head back down to leave for dinner. It had been an eventful day so far, and it wasn’t about to end without a bang – and it’s coming…

For dinner, they took us to the place that they claimed invented the recipe for the Peking Duck. (For reference, Beijing is also known as Peking.) I’m thinking they invented their recipe for Peking Duck, which happens to be very good – from what I understand, this recipe predates most modern-looking restaurants. The restaurant was called the Beijing Hepingmen Quanjude Roast Duck Restaurant. Or the Quanjude for short. The restaurant was named a China Renowned Trademark in 1999, so this is the real deal.















The eating area, for us at least, was on the fourth or fifth floor, and instead of waiting on line at the elevator, I decided to sprint up the stairs and then strike a Rocky pose when I got to the top.



















As we walked down the corridor into the dining room, there were a number of photos on the wall. There were a few faces I recognized, but one of the photos that stuck out most to be was the one of Nixon, who ate here during his infamous tour of China back during his presidency.

Holding the Asian tradition true, we all sat at a gigantic table and ate off of a lazy susan. Do you think that whatever the Chinese call that spinning thing directly translates to ‘lazy susan’?

I thought that Peking Duck was just one dish, and it may have been, but we had five or six different dishes out, all holding what appeared to be duck. Also, we were supposed to eat one kind of the duck with something called a pancake, which was essentially eating the duck like a tortilla. I found a fork to be much more effective.

And so I had the duck. I thought it was okay. Although, all the while I was eating it I could not get the image of a happy white duck with orange bill trotting along the side of a pond as happy as could be. Who knew that when cooked it would be very oily and greasy? I tried as much of the duck as I saw fit, and noticed that everyone else was picking one or two of the dishes and sticking to it. I was eating whatever was sitting around, and maybe overdid it a tad, but certainly no more than a tad, if that.

I sat at a very large round table with a big group, but not everybody got a seat at one of the big tables, so there was a group of three or four that sat behind us, behind a column in the room, and the servers kept forgetting that they were there, and weren’t getting much food. Because if you don’t tell them right away, and they move on to bringing out the next dish, that last one is history. Our table started sharing our leftovers with the forgotten table.

Whatever the last dish brought out was, some kind of duck prepared in some way, it was by far the best, and we had none left to share with the forgotten table because it all went so quick on our table. The forgotten table was quite upset to have been forgotten.

Once dinner ended, we departed, but I did not leave before taking a photo with a replica of what I had for dinner sitting just outside the restaurant.



















That was odd. Our guide gave us the option of taking the bus back to the hotel, it being after 10 o’clock by now, or we could walk back through Tiananmen Square and the surrounding area. A group of us wanted to walk back, so we did, and off into the night we went.

There was a group of about ten or twelve of us to start, and nobody knows what happened in Tiananmen Square, but we looked around and it was only myself and three other girls, and we had no idea where the rest of the group went. The square wasn’t empty, so they could have been obscured behind people walking through the world’s largest public gathering place. The sheer size may have had something to do with it. As well as the fact that we were stopping to take photos along the way. We may have been distracted.















Somewhere along the way, one of the girls in the group heard that there was a night market in the area on the way back to the hotel, so we figured we’d be adventurous and try to find it. Little did we know that Beijing is not the easiest city to navigate through…

We got lost. We had no idea where we were and had no real idea where we were going. So, we went into a hotel and tried to get directions (and use the restroom as well – western toilets!) I wasn’t really in on the directions because (aside from the fact that I didn’t plan to purchase much of anything) I was more along for the fun of the ride than the actual destination we were attempting to reach. So we left the hotel we stumbled upon and set off again to search for the night market. This is what we found:















And this was the nice part we found. And it wasn’t the night market. We kept walking trying to find anything resembling a market, but we just found dingier, emptier and more frightening alleyways where I decided not to take out my nice looking camera to capture for posterity. Just believe me when I say there were people standing in doorways watching me walk by with a group of three other girls. I was feeling the need to be very conscious of our surroundings for safety purposes.

There was one alleyway we went down that had opaque puddles throughout and one incandescent light bulb hanging from a lone wire in the middle of the alleyway. There was little sound, and only a few lights on in the windows we walked by, as it was now clear that we were nowhere near a market, or any type of vendor for that matter, because we had entered living quarters. I wanted to get out of there as quick as possible.

A few minutes later, and a few blind guesses as to a general direction to go, we wind up amidst a horde of people on a street with shopping. I don’t think it was a night market as much as it was just a street with stores that were open. And we’re not talking average stores – one of the girls wanted to duck (pardon the pun) into a jewelry store to look around, and this is what is looked like:















Not exactly a quaint place. I left two of the girls to the jewelry store and I went off with the other to look what was around the corner. We found a little grocery store. It seemed like a grocery store the locals would use, and while it looked relatively normal on the surface, a closer inspection would reveal otherwise.

I decided to peruse the aisles to find something out of the ordinary. About two feet into the first aisle, I found all I needed. Can you tell what I’ve found?















Can you tell now?



















In case you can’t read it, the bag is labeled as Beijing Roast Duck, which is what I just finished having for dinner. I’m not entirely sure how the duck is preserved inside of the bag, but I had a feeling it was in the form of a dried out, chip-like thing. There it was – all I wanted to find was something that I did not think was sold in the average grocery store in the non-perishable section. And if that does turn out to be perishable, that would concern me greatly.

We departed the grocery store and went back outside the jewelry store to wait for the rest of the group to come out. Once we were all ready to go, the new challenge was to find our way back to the hotel. We could have walked out to the main road and then walked along it to the hotel, or did what we did and tried to follow some more of the back roads to find the rear of the hotel. What we did not realize was that the hotel would probably look greatly different from behind than we’re used to seeing it from the front.

Eventually, we did come to realize that we had no idea what we were looking for and found ourselves immersed back into the maze of back alleyways, beginning to lose our sense of direction. I say that because we were having a tough time finding alleyways to head towards the main road, which is a direction that is necessary to travel to eventually reach the hotel.

Somehow we juked and jived and found our way to the back of what we thought was our hotel. It was not. So we went up and over the arched driveway to the front and then ran into another problem – dissension within the group. Half the group thought that we had passed the hotel and needed to go back. And I thought that we had yet to pass the hotel and needed to move in the other direction. To make matters worse, nothing at all looked familiar to us. We knew we were on the main road, and that we had to have driven by where we were standing, but we had no idea which way to go. I did put myself on the line and convince the group to move my way.

I was hoping we would find something familiar along the way, but became increasingly worried as all it seemed like we were passing were advertisements for Windows Vista. Apparently Windows seems to think that China will be a big market for their new operating system. Then we passed what looked like a small mall, and that did not look familiar at all, but one of the girls said she thinks she recognized the area. Some of the monkey came off my back there.

And just a few minutes later, we happened upon the hotel. Our excursion from dinner had taken us to just about midnight, and I was glad to have made it back and not be lost at night on the mean streets of Beijing. We departed and went to the rooms, and I went to bed about quarter after midnight, and fell asleep pretty quickly.

At exactly 12:50, and I mean exactly, I woke up and knew almost immediately that something was wrong. There was a disturbance in the force. I sat up in bed and felt incredibly nauseous, moreso than I did when I woke up that first night back in Malaysia. And just like I did then, I went straight into the bathroom. And I sat there, feeling awful. And when I say awful, I mean about as low as I can go.

Ten minutes went by. Twenty minutes went by. I was starting to feel slightly better at some points, then worse the next. I wavered back and forth between feeling better and worse, and was not making any progress.

Thirty minutes went by. How did I make it through some of the toughest parts of the world – the Amazon, India, Vietnam – and then fall in Beijing? And it wasn’t like I let my guard down either. It just didn’t make sense to me.

Forty minutes went by, and I decided that this was getting silly. I wasn’t about to spend the entire night sitting in the bathroom, because we had a jam-packed day tomorrow that I wanted to be there for. I started to feel slightly better, so I stood up and instantly felt exponentially worse. So, I started moving around to agitate myself, and then out it came.

And without going into great detail, let’s just say that the duck quaked on the way out.

The Show Stopping Dance Number

We were quite upset to leave the intersection we were so fascinated with, but there was much more to see and do up here in northern Vietnam. It also started to drizzle from the overcast skies. Once we were all back on the bus, it was time to start the long drive to Ha Long Bay. Because the ride would be lengthy, our tour guide found it the perfect opportunity to tell us the entire history of the country of Vietnam. I’ll remind you that the country is currently in its longest stretch of time without being in a war in its nearly 2000 year history, and it’s only been about sixteen years of peace at that. Needless to say, it’s a storied and long history. That’s why he waited until we got to this long drive – he needed that much time to tell the story.

I felt compelled to listen initially, but after the twenty-minute mark, and only being in about the 1400s, I was done with the story. It wasn’t that he was going into great detail; he was just relaying every conflict that Vietnam has been involved in. It is a country that has been fighting for its existence its entire existence. They’ve been in a few conflicts.

After a while it was clear that he was losing people, but the trooper that our guide was, he kept on chugging for both people that were still listening. Most people were trying to fall asleep because we had all had a long journey to get here already. The volume of the speakers prevented me from doing that.

About halfway into the drive (just over an hour and a half into the trip) it was time for a pit stop. Our guide decided that it was time for a pit stop, at least. This pit stop is a story in itself. Right before we pulled in, our guide told us that the pit stop was also a place to buy stuff. What a coincidence! Anyway, he also told us that there were kids making stuff in there. There was a story about the kids in there, but it didn’t really sound legit to me.

When the bus pulled up, we were surrounded by large sculptures of what I assume are made of white marble. They were huge and there was no way anybody would buy that stuff. I was proved wrong later. But as we walked into the building, it was about the length of a football field on one level. It was all very clean with a lot of expensive-looking stuff around. The first thing we came upon were the children working. Whether this was forced labor, I don’t think it was. The conditions looked halfway decent. Although I could have been wrong.

The kids were weaving stuff, and they were weaving it so fast that their fingers were blurs. The concentration was unbelievable and I never saw one of them stop, and there were over fifty kids around. It was something that I hoped didn’t actually exist, but if there’s one thing that this trip does, it opens up your eyes a bit more.

As Mom and I strolled through the store, it became obvious that our tour guide is making some cash dropping us off here for a half hour and moving the bus to the other end of the store, forcing us to move through it at least once. The prices were on the high side, so to buy something, you really had to have a find, and nothing there was nothing that you couldn’t get somewhere. But as sure as we were wandering around the store, people looked like they were buying stuff. I couldn’t figure it out.

On another side of the store there is a display of people who bought stuff and where they’re from. It is a photo of these people with the item that they bought, usually an extravagant sculpture or large furniture piece, and next to their photo is their complete contact information, including their names, addresses, and Email address. If you wanted the item in the photo, it wasn’t going to be tough to find it to steal it. There was so much information up there, that the only thing missing was what kind of underwear they wear.

On our way out to the bus, we passed by people that were buying jewelry. That said, I’m sure it was cheaper than it was back in the states, but who comes out to Vietnam to buy cheaper jewelry? It just doesn’t make sense to me. It didn’t make sense to Mom either, so we went out back and took these photos of us standing in front of a rice field.


































Mom and I were back on the bus on time. Actually, we were waiting at the bus on time – the doors were locked so we couldn’t go in. But some people found that a half hour at this roadside store (in the middle of nowhere) was not enough to satisfy their shopping needs. We were waiting for a few people to finish their purchases and make it back out to the bus. There was no rush, as there usually is when I’m waiting for people, but that’s beside the point. We were just hoping that they didn’t get lost. In due course, the last couple of people strolled out of the store, onto the bus, and off we went.

Soon after leaving, we entered an area that was clearly neat a coal plant. There were trees with large leafs on them, and they were completely covered in black soot to the point where you could not see the green of the leaf. The entire town had this post-apocalyptic look to it, with an entire and sure to be constant coat of soot covering everything.

It was also in this town that we drove through that our guide informed us that we were coming into an area where we would see that anything could be transported on a motorbike. I didn’t believe everything could be transported on a motorbike, but after the first two items that I saw on a motorbike, I stood corrected.

The first was a motorbike that had three fully-grown pigs lying across the back. And the driver of the motorbike was driving along as if there were nothing wrong at all. I know it’s a bit of an extraordinary claim, that’s why there’s a picture below. I was also convinced that the pigs on the back were dead because there was no movement. I would have thought that three pigs strapped together on the back of a dinky motorbike would have the pigs struggling ferociously for their freedom. Again, I was proved wrong when one of the pigs’ head picked up and wriggled a small bit. It was a brief movement, but enough to show that it wasn’t just a bump in the road and turn me into a believer.















Now, transporting a pig on the back of a motorbike is good, but it doesn’t convince me that ‘everything’ can be transported on the back of a motorbike. Then came the washing machine.















That was the clincher. There was a motorbike with a washing machine strapped to the back. That settled it: you can transport anything on the back of a motorbike, even if it is bigger than the motorbike itself – and still maintain the speed of the other vehicles on the road. I thought I had seen engineering feats before, but the washing machine on the back of a motorbike took the cake. Just think of the convenience. A washing machine breaks at the house, and the wife looks to the husband and says, “we need a new washing machine,” and the husband nonchalantly says, “okay, I’ll take the motorbike,” and the wife says, “sounds good.” That boggles my mind. A washing machine on a motorbike; I’m getting closer and closer to honestly admitting that, “now, I’ve seen it all” – but I’ve got too much trip left, I’m not there yet.

After another almost two hours since the stop, we arrived in the Ha Long Bay area. The town we were in was not Ha Long Bay, and I don’t think Ha Long Bay was outside of the hotel, but I was led to believe that it was in the vicinity. Also, before the bus pulled up to the hotel, our guide told us that we should not be going outside after dark because it is not safe. Unlike Hanoi where it is a city and there are a lot of people, that does not apply here where there is a lesser population and apparently quite a number of additional disreputable souls. Very seldom, if at all, have I heard a warning about not going outside. So when we get one, I’d think we should follow it.

But when we arrived, there was still some daylight left. The sun wasn’t out because that same haze that hung over Hanoi is hanging over where we are now, which I would guess is Ha Long City, even though the hotel is named Asean Halong Hotel. (We’re 170 kilometers east of Hanoi.) What I do know where we are is that we’re in the Tonkin Gulf and Ha Long Bay means ‘Bay of the Descending Dragon.’ I couldn’t have named it better myself.

As a result of the remaining daylight, it provided Mom the opportunity to try to find another layer of clothing. Because as chilly as it was here seaside, I would bet that as we went out on the water tomorrow, it would probably be chillier. That’s what we figured anyway. That, and that another layer would help Mom out tonight as well because it was already starting to get cooler as the sun lowered in the haze and approached what I assume is the horizon.

As we arrive at the hotel and congregate in the lobby, we had the fun experience of having stuff handed out to us again. It wasn’t the fiasco we had at the Ho Chi Minh City airport, but it was somewhat reminiscent of it. What I thought to be mildly odd, and logical for that matter, was that the students that had two parents, otherwise known as ‘both’ parents, come out on the trip, the students would be rooming with another student because there are only two to a room. If Mom came all this way out and I had a separate room, I would have been on the annoyed side.

Anyway, so Mom and I went up to the room to drop our backpacks off because our key was one of the first ones to come out. It was here that an opinion of Mom’s began to change. She had been saying how well all the parents were being treated and how good their accommodations had been, and how well everything had been organized, and I told her how the majority of the trips that I have been on have been the exact opposite. So she was convinced that everything that had been going our way on the trip so far (the change to the Hanoi Hilton because the other place was busy) was because the parents were with the trip. When we went into the room, I could tell that Mom was a tinge disappointed because it was clearly a step down from some of the places she had been staying in. I thought it even a little above par. I’m not sure why I have been, but I’ve been trying to debunk the theory that the parents are getting better treatment because they’re the parents. I just can’t come around to accept that.

After we freshened up in the room, we headed out of the hotel, looking for a jacket. On the way up the hill to the hotel, Mom said that she saw a small little store that was selling jackets. By the time that we went back down to the store, it had closed and looked like it had not just been open. But, as we looked across the street, just before the shoreline was what appeared to be a night market. Actually Mom called it a night market because I had never heard the term ‘night market’ before, so I just went along with it.

The sun was just starting to set so the night market was unprepared when we arrived and most of the vendors were still setting up for the evening. There were quite a number of vendors, there had to be at least 50, so the market must get hopping as the night draws on, but I’m not entirely sure where the patrons are coming from. It certainly shouldn’t be the two hotels across the street, because we were warned that we should not be outside.

As Mom and I walked through the night market, we saw that a lot of people were selling similar items, or items that were bizarre in nature. Towels and dresses seemed to be the most popular items, with a smattering of knick-knacks and odds and ends betwixed and between. Needless to say, we did not find a jacket. But we did have a nice stroll outside before it became ‘dangerous.’

So we walked back up the hill to the hotel and passed another Mom and daughter on their way back down the hill. We went upstairs to freshen up, and then back downstairs a while later because it was time for dinner. Amongst a handful of other people, we sat with the mother and daughter that went down the hill after us, as well as Margaret. I have mentioned Margaret before – she’s the 91-year-old traveler on the ship. She’s also done Semester at Sea every five or six years, since the late 70s, so she’s done it a few times needless to say.

To give you a taste of Margaret, a while back on the ship, we asked her what the secret to living long and healthy is. I was expecting a non-answer that really wouldn’t help at all, but I was surprised. She said that she does exercises to stand on the tip of her toes. She went on to tell us that you can do it standing against a wall, or even when you’re sitting in your seat on an airplane. But, that was her secret to how well she is doing, and you have to admit that doing this trip at 91 is the sign that she is one of the healthiest people, not just for her age, in the world. So she should know what she’s doing.

Margaret provided quite a bit of the entertainment that we had at dinner. Dinner itself was okay. There was a soup that I didn’t enjoy, probably because I don’t enjoy any kind of soup. And it seemed like it was taking an awful long time for our dinners to come out. Half our table asked that their food be heated for another minute or so because it was cold. It came back more than a few minutes later, and it was warmer, so they say. Mine was not hot, but I didn’t bother sending it back. It was fine the way it was. I don’t think that heating it up would have made it any better.

Another topic of discussion at dinner was what happened to the mother and daughter that passed us on the hill. Apparently, as they went by the other hotel, an attendant from that hotel told them that they should not leave the hotel grounds without someone walking with them. He was adamant about that, so instead they just walked around the other hotel and then came back to ours, figuring that it wasn’t worth it.

Mom and I told them that nobody said a thing to us and that we didn’t see anything that would make us concerned. They looked at us like we were crazy. So while Mom and I both felt completely safe, maybe because the mother and daughter didn’t have a guy with them, we may have missed quite an extra experience that we probably didn’t want.

After dinner, Mom and I went up to the room for the rest of the evening, because we certainly weren’t going to go outside at this point. I put on the television, and while I was flipping, I found another version of Who Wants to be a Millionaire. Except in this one, there was no English at all, and I had no idea what was going on, which lessens the viewing experience considerably, so we didn’t stay there long. Like in every other hotel I’ve been in, CNN International was there, amidst a few other English channels, and we wavered around those until we were tired, and that wasn’t too long, so we went to bed soon.

While not as early as the day before, we were awake at 6:30 for day 3 of Vietnam, with a fun-filled day awaiting us. We packed up and left the room, because we weren’t going to be staying in Ha Long City anymore, and went down to breakfast. This time, amidst other people, we sat with Pat, who you may remember from my Kuala Lumpur trip. And if you do not remember, Pat is one of the lifelong learners that was on my Kuala Lumpur trip in Malaysia. So Mom and I had a very nice breakfast with Pat, who was waiting for her traveling partner, Brenda, to come downstairs. Let’s just say that Brenda has established a reputation to miss breakfast.

We departed the hotel shortly thereafter and took the buses further down the road toward Ha Long Bay. The dock itself was only about another five minutes down the road because we were already on the banks of the bay. When we get off the buses, another classic Semester at Sea moment of confusion ensues, where nobody really knows what’s going on, or where our guide went. I would think that following the guide would have been important, or that he went off to grab the tickets would have been useful information for us.

So the guide comes back to the lost looking group of Americans and leads us over to where we hand in the ticket that we were just handed. We walk through what may have been a turnstile and out onto the dock. The best way to describe the boats at the dock is sheer pandemonium and confusion unlike anything I have ever seen before. There are a few docks, but we’re clearly on the big main dock. Here’s a photo of the view we saw in 360 degrees:















The boat system is the most bizarre system I may have ever seen in my entire life. A system that even beats the bizarreness of the US electoral system. The boats are all clumped in together, trying to get wherever they want to go. In much the same way that I referred to the international queue when I was in India, the queue that I have seen throughout Asia was exhibited wonderfully here with boats instead of people. To refresh your memory, which I’m certain doesn’t need refreshing anyway, in the US; we form a straight line and wait our turn. The international line, or queue as it’s more commonly referred to as, is in the shape of a ‘V’ where you try to get as close to where you want to get as possible, in any which direction that you can. There is no sense of order, but I thought I had gotten used to that by now, but I was wrong.

With the boats, when a boat wants to come in to dock, it floats into the area and it tries to push as many boats out of the way that it can, and then that’s good enough. You might be thinking why they stop when they are so far away from the dock, and you will see quite shortly how that process works. Until then, we waited up on the dock until we were told to do anything else. I’m not sure what we were waiting for, but eventually, we were told to walk down a very narrow set of concrete steps with no handrail, and then onto a wooden plank the was sitting on the bottom step and an adjacent boat. Mom and I were towards the front of the boat and thought that we had these wacky Vietnamese figured out and that we were ahead of the game. We were wrong.

We walk the plank onto the boat and then figure that we should go up on top so that we have a good spot. We walk right on the boat and up to the top. It was a very nice boat, and we would most certainly have a great view. Then we turn around and see that the pilot of the boat is waving at us. We wave back, and he keeps moving his hands like he’s trying to tell us something. We have no idea what’s going on, so we ignored him. Then we looked over to the boat next to us, and on top of the boat there started to appear the other people from our bus. We thought we had it figured out, but they told us that we were on the wrong boat. To say that I felt foolish or embarrassed may have been an understatement, and I wanted to get off the top of the boat as soon as possible. I didn’t need anyone else seeing me on top of the wrong boat.

What had happened was that Mom and I assumed that the boat that we first set foot on would be the boat that we would be sailing out on. We were wrong. The boat we were sailing out on was not within reach of the dock, so we had to traverse across the first boat next to the dock to reach our boat. It’s an oddly simple concept that was lost on us.

When we got over to the real boat, there was nobody on the lower level, so we figured that the top level would be packed, and we resigned to find another way to outsmart the people once again, yet remain victorious. The lower level of the boat is mostly constituted of the kitchen and staff quarters, then a dining area, and then doors at the front of the boat that open out onto a small area at the bow with a few benches and quite a nice view. So, it was here that we stayed and hoped that we wouldn’t be in the wrong spot again.

Our boat was quite near the dock, and there was a bevy of boats waiting behind us in our way. Logically, the pilot put the boat into reverse and slowly pushed the boats out of the way. Once we were out in open water, we turned to face Ha Long Bay, and set out, at an incredibly slow pace. Don’t get me wrong, I was in no hurry; but I would have preferred to feel a breeze blow in my face. It seemed as if all the boat traffic going to and coming back from Ha Long Bay was moving at about the same speed, so I would have to guess that there was some kind of speed restriction in place.

A short while later one person came downstairs to us saying that it was too crowded upstairs. I felt good about that. Around that time, we were starting to pass a small boat of two locals trying to sell fresh produce. At least I think it was fresh produce. I don’t speak Vietnamese. Anyway, they thrusted the produce towards us and we didn’t want any, but someone on the top of the boat must have displayed some kind of interest because I turned around and the next thing I see is this:



















And sure enough, stuff starts getting passed from the small boat to the top of our boat. I’m thinking that it wasn’t the sales pitch that won them over as much as it was the silly Americans on top of the boat that are suckers for, I don’t know, maybe, guava? And it couldn’t have been just one person buying stuff because they were hanging off the side of our boat for quite a while.

As we were drawing nearer to the real part of Ha Long Bay, the scenery was very pretty. Essentially what Ha Long Bay is, is a concentrated area of almost two thousand giant limestone monoliths scattered throughout a large area in the bay. And within the limestone cliffs are an assortment of places to visit and see. The first of which place to see is a giant cave complex, Sung Sot Cave, inside one of the monoliths. The cave is in a monolith that is one of the closest to the port, so it’s obviously one of the most visited spots, and with good reason.

We drew nearer from the calm half hour boat ride out, and while it was very hazy outside still, the image of the limestone monoliths looming out of the haze is an extraordinary site to see. As we moved in on the caves, Mom took a rather contemplative photograph of me observing the area from the front of the boat.















As luck would have it, there was a large smattering of other boats already pulled up to the dock at the caves, which meant that we got to play our favorite game: ram the boat into the other boats to move them out of the way. And sure enough, we did. We were moving in on the other boats, and there could not have been anything the pilot saw different than I did, because all I saw was no way in, and boats in every square inch of real estate. Sure enough, the pilot knocked the speed up a little bit and drove straight into the fray. I’m not entirely sure what happened, but all I know is that boats were moving in every direction, in and out, and we snuck our way in, right up against the dock. It was miraculous.

The fun part was how they had us disembark the boat. The dock was cement and had about six or seven steps coming down until they abruptly stopped and dangled over the water. One of the deckhands on our boat took a plank and laid it across the front of the boat and one of the lower steps, and then we were to walk across and up. It seemed reminiscent of how we got on the ship, and there’s probably a reason for that.

They gave us a time to meet back at the boat and told us that it’s a one-way path through the cave, and we just loop around back to the dock. Mom and I set off on our adventure, amidst the teeming hordes that arrived there at the same time as our boat. The path up to the entrance to the cave was nearly entirely stairs straight up. Here’s what the view looked like on the way down:















Needless to say, the path moved at a relatively slow pace, if at all. There’s something that I’ve noticed about Asian tour groups as opposed to the American tour groups. When the Asian tours are around, the entire group stands wherever they want and usually block the path, so we can’t go anywhere and they’ll be largely oblivious to the people trying to get by. In contrast, the American tour groups don’t stick together and go off in twenty different directions. The caves were a case study on this idea.

After climbing the large number of steps to the entrance to the cave (I think I counted somewhere around 100) we were finally able to get inside. The last cave that I was in was in Puerto Rico, and that had one huge central chamber. The huge central chamber here was only about half the size, but still enormously large, but where the Vietnamese have the advantage is in the lovely colorful lights throughout. I could actually see where I was going the entire time. Mind you, there were lights in the cave in Puerto Rico, but they were just dull white lights scattered about. Here, it was a veritable explosion of color!

Just because I must say this, because I know someone has to be keeping track. These caves were visited by the Amazing Race in Race 10, Leg 4. That said, once we were inside the cave, we were able to move around a couple of the slow pokes in front of us that were holding us up, and now we could move around with at our ease. Not that we wanted to zip through the caves, but we didn’t want to be wailing in place behind a giant Asian tour group.

Something that I have come to realize at this point in the trip is that my camera is nearly totally inept at taking photographs inside dark places. And while the cave is not entirely dark, it’s dark enough to send my camera into a tizzy in the caves. I don’t know how many photos Mom and I took of each other and how many other unsuspecting souls we thrust our cameras into, but good photos were few and far between. Here are a few of my favorites from my camera:


































And here are a few favorites from Mom’s camera:





























Each one a winner in its own right.

As we moved into the large central area of the cave, we really slowed down because there were a few Asian tour groups that were not moving at all. It must also be a different tour company because our tour guide said that he has been out on the Ha Long Bay boat ride hundreds of times, and he’s still got to be in his 20s. And he wasn’t giving us a tour. You must have to pay extra for that, or be American.

After we snaked our way through the large groups, we found that we were nearing the exit, and there were more steps up to the exit, which I found to be a surprisingly narrow passageway. Some of the more plump individuals would have to hold their breath. Once we were outside, we had a lovely view of the area, as well as the docking area below. As I took this photo, it was here that I realized that I did not remember the exact features of our boat, and I wished that I did.















Mom said that she knew, and I didn’t have much of a choice to go along with her idea of what the boat looked like, because I certainly wasn’t going to be of any help. As we exited the cave, I assumed that there would be another set of steps taking us back down to the dock, in much the reverse manner that we did on the way in. As Mom and I were walking, we seemed to be going along the path in the opposite direction and only descending a bit at a time. I thought we were going to be late back to the boat because the path was taking us for such a ride; but then Mom reminded me that everyone else would be going the same way, and we were not one of the last groups out. Mom’s always excellent for telling me why I shouldn’t be as concerned as I should be.

Eventually, after passing a bunch of souvenir places along the path, we made it down to the path to the dock. It didn’t feel like a schlep because it was all downhill, but it didn’t feel like a leisurely stroll for some reason either. As we walked back down the dock, it was here that I hoped Mom would remember which one was our boat.

I can’t say that I was surprised because I really wasn’t, but not only did Mom identify our boat, she pointed out the boat that the other bus was on. It took a while for the rest of the boat to make it back because of the misleading amount of time it takes to exit the caves and make it back to the boat. I would think that the tour guide had that time already factored in. At least if I were the tour guide I would – it’s definitely something that happens to every group.

Our boat plowed out backwards, similar to how we plowed in, and off we were again into the bay. Being on a boat moving by these sheer cliff faces never gets old. Mom and I had a great view up in front and it was just lovely. Who gets to do this with their Mom? How lucky am I? It was at this point where we both looked at each other, and for what had to be the tenth time, at least, we asked ourselves, “What are we doing in Vietnam?” And neither of us had a good answer until we decided that we were in Vietnam having a great time.















As we moved through the bay a few events of interest happened. We moved right up to a floating little shack that looked like it had a few pens in the water in front of it. We pulled up just long enough for a bag to be thrown onboard, and then backed up and moved out. That was lunch. Can you say, ‘fresh?’ Eventually the other boat came right up alongside ours. Actually, it was closer than alongside, they tied the two boats together and motored through the bay. I never thought something like that would be a good idea, but after seeing the two boats do it, I can’t think of a reason why it wouldn’t be.

A few minutes after the two boats joined at the hip, we stopped for swim time. I looked at the water, and said ‘no’ to swimming, as did most people. Some adventurers ventured in; and instead of going in the water, they jumped off the top of the boat into the water. That was a little bit showy for me. And because there was nothing else to do but watch the people in the water, that’s what everyone did. As one of the swimmers noted, it looked sort of creepy to have all those people watching, but it was merely out of having no scenery moving by us, even though we did stop in a quiet picturesque corner. Even with the haze around, it was still beautiful. Someone in the water had a waterproof camera and snapped this photo of everyone watching them:















After the four or five people in the water climbed their way back on the boats (and jumped off again, and climbed back on, and jumped off, and eventually stayed on) the conjoined boats moved along through another part of the bay. But, this also meant that it was time for lunch as we started to head back to the dock. Before we went in for lunch however, we all looked at our ticket stubs for the outing. The boat ride, cave excursion, lunch, and everything cost about US$2. That’s it! We were wondering why some boats only looked like there were three or four people on board, and that’s because for fifty or so dollars, the boat is yours for three hours. I think that sounds like a plan for whenever the return visit decides to happen.

Lunch happens on the part of the boat that Mom and I were on, except inside the glass doors where all the restaurant-style booths are. I was thrilled that there were no lazy susans in eyesight. Mom and I sat with Mary Jo and her family, her sister, Mom, and Dad, who all came out on the trip, so we filled out a table of six well. To be completely honest, before this trip, I didn’t recognize Mary Jo at all. She might not have been on the ship for all I know. But that’s how it works on the ship. It’s easy to get lost and not see people.

Without question, our best meal in Vietnam was lunch on the boat. I’m not sure exactly how that happened, but it did. It was a lot of seafood, and I’m sure all of it came from that bag that was thrown on board the boat. The calamari was great, and the prawns were quite good as well, once you got the hard outer stuff off. In the states, shrimp come taken care of already, and all you have to do is cut off the tail. Here, the prawns really are fresh and are staring back at you. It took us about three or four minutes per prawn. The prawn was good, but it wasn’t worth the three or four minutes. Then a guy came around the tables and took the prawn out in three or four seconds. He went through our whole plate in a blur, and then he was gone to the next table. I wasn’t even sure what happened. It could have been black magic for all I know.

Then the fun began. As we were enjoying our lunch, the two conjoined boats made their way back towards the dock at Ha Long, separating as we drew nearer. It was evident that a number of the boats were out in the morning and had since returned, ensuring that there was no way we were going to get near the dock. The pilot drove right into the fray and got as close as he could, and turned off the engine. I expected to be in eyesight of the dock, but it still remained about 150 feet away. That would stop lesser people. Apparently not us though. Our tour guide stepped off the boat and onto the boat next to us. Because this gets tricky, I’ve included a diagram below:



















We started off on our boat and went over to another boat, labeled 1, with the aid of our trusty plank. As we walked across the deck of this boat (partially obscured by the dragon on the boat in front of it), with people on it, not even batting an eye that we were on their boat, we walked directly onto the next boat, labeled 2 in the diagram. Are you following so far?

Mom and I, of course, were laughing hysterically at the absurdity of what we were doing. This is inconceivable back in the states. If you notice in the photo, there’s a decent gap between boats 2 and 3. That tripped a few people up in their crossing, particularly the shorter people with stubby legs. Mom and I were towards the back of the pack so we got to watch the leaps across the gap so we knew what we were doing once we came to it.

Once we were across, as I said earlier, these boats are still jostling around, and we were reminded of that while on boat 3. The photo below is relatively self-explanatory.



















The object in the foreground is another boat that happened to drift its way into our path. The blue shirted man is now in between the boat and the other boat. It was absolutely hysterical. He escaped unscathed, but Mom and I had to wait for the boat to drift back before walking by. We didn’t want to be rammed by the boat. The squeeze did not look like it was the most exciting of circumstances for the squeeze-e. But it was so funny. So funny.

We walked the length of boat 3 and then another longer plank was waiting for us to take us back up to the top of the dock. And we survived. Mom and I had a tough time deciding what was the best part of the trip, and the squeeze play with the boat was certainly up there as a possibility. How could it not be? It was totally worth the less than two-dollar price of admission.

At this point, our lovely excursion into Ha Long concluded, and it was time to board back onto the buses and head back to Hanoi for the remainder of our time in the northern part of the country. It was a short walk back to the bus, and we were off.

As we did on the way into Ha Long Bay, it was time to look for interesting items on the back of motorbikes. It’s always good to have an activity to look forward to on a long bus ride. And again, we were not disappointed. Instead of seeing more interesting and different items, we saw unbelievable extensions of something we saw on the way in: more pigs!

This still blows my mind how this works, but there is something called a pig station, which is where people go to drop off their pigs, and pick up some more pigs as they so desire. Who knew that there was such a thing as a pig station? If you remain a nonbeliever, Mom snapped a photo of photographic evidence:















Let’s not forget to keep in mind that all those pigs are, in fact, still alive and well. How much longer that will be true is something I have no knowledge of. But amidst their sallow living conditions, there are, in fact, signs of life in them when they wiggle or convulse every so often. There is nothing like seeing a pig squirm on the back of a motorbike, while attached to three other pigs. It’s not something that leaves the mind quickly.

It seems obvious in hindsight, but we made a pit stop halfway through the four-hour drive back to Hanoi – at the exact same place we stopped the day before. But, what killed me to no end was that they still made us stay there a half hour! Who in their right mind is going to buy something today that they did not already buy yesterday, when we had a half hour to spend yesterday.

Who, you ask? Well, apparently a number of the people on our bus. How they found more items to purchase from the exact same selections is beyond me. I can’t fathom the logic. Some people must have found the half hour to be insufficient time to shop when we were here yesterday. Mom and I were bored about ten minutes into the stop yesterday, so I had no idea what we were going to try to entertain ourselves with today.

As we exited the bus, we walked in to the same room with all the young kids weaving with blurs for fingers. I didn’t feel comfortable in that room. The child labor never seems like a good idea, regardless of what the circumstances look like, or actually are.

Mom and I did another lap around the interior, and then went outside to try to walk off the other half of the time that we had. Funnily enough, we were the first people waiting back at the bus on the other side of the place. And still, people were late because they were making purchases. They still haven’t had to the chance to wear all the jewelry that they bought yesterday, and now it was time for more. They didn’t even have the time to figure out if it’s stuff that falls off a day or two after putting it on.

Once everyone was back on the bus, we headed for downtown Hanoi, where we’d spend roughly the next 24 hours. It became quite obvious when we were entering the city limits again, because the road pretty much looked like this or more crowded the entire time we were in Hanoi:















To keep up the idea that we were staying in nicer hotels because the parents were with us, the hotel we would have to be staying in would have to be, what we’ll call, “very nice.” The actual words that we would use would be “semi-dinky.” And Mom was finally surprised that the parents weren’t staying in nicer hotels. The Asean Halong Hotel is certainly doable, but in comparison to the places Mom has been staying, it was below average. I found it rather average and didn’t bat an eye. I’m used to it at this point.

They told us that we had a few hours to kill in the afternoon before we had to meet back at the hotel for departure for the evening’s fun-filled festivities. About more than half of the group decided to stay in and around the hotel. But Mom and I decided to venture out into Hanoi to see what was going on. It just seemed like time wasted to sit around with this very pretty, if heavily hazy and polluted, city around us. Honestly, in our entire time in northern Vietnam, we never saw the sun. Whether that was because of the local weather pattern that happened to be there when we were, or whether that’s just how it is, I’m not all too sure. I wouldn’t be surprised either way.

Before we left the semi-dinky hotel, we were informed which direction the city center was and headed off in that direction. They also told us about how many blocks it was away, but neither of us remembered. We set off in a direction that I think can best be described as ‘that way.’ We were sure that we would run into something eventually.

Along the way, we were able to hone our skills at crossing the street. Hanoi differs from Ho Chi Minh City in the composition of traffic, with Hanoi heavily laden on motorbikes. Most people ride motorbikes because the tax on a car is something in the neighborhood of 300%. That makes the option clear if you’re in doubt about what to buy. With this abundance of the more agile motorbikes, along with a dearth of traffic signals of any kind, crossing the street becomes markedly different than it does in some place like New York City. There, you wait for a light to change or a period of time when there are no cars coming down the road. If you wait for either of those circumstances in Hanoi, you’re not going to go anywhere fast.

The basic rule of thumb in crossing the street is that once you put your foot in the roadway, you are committed and you must walk across the street because the motorbikes will be adapting to you and swerving around you. And once you put that put in the roadway, you have to maintain the same speed while walking across. If you vary too much, you’re going to get hit by a motorbike.

The whole situation sounds bizarre, and that’s because it is, but it’s the way it works over here, and they’re not going to change just because a few silly Americans have trekked over. Mom and I learned quickly that it was best to cross the street with a local. If traffic was moving left to right, have a Vietnamese guy on your left, and when he goes, you go and basically shadow him as he crosses the street. That’s about as foolproof as it gets. Unfortunately, there’s not always a Vietnamese guy waiting to cross the street when we need to, so fending for yourself became a quickly learned skill. Much like getting into Carnegie Hall, the way to get to the other side of the street in Vietnam is practice, practice, practice.

Mom and I passed a large indoor shopping mall that we didn’t go into because we don’t need anything in there, and then came out into an open area across the street from what looked like a large pond or a small lake. In the square on our side of the street, there was a statue of a Vietnamese man. He must have been important, otherwise why would there be a statue of him here?

We walked up to the statue and were going to do a photo of each other, but a Vietnamese man came over and offered to take our photo via a series of hand gestures. I gave him my camera, and below is the photo that was taken.



















What is interesting in this photo is what I was thinking while the photo was being taken. I wasn’t just pleasantly smiling. I was thinking and talking to Mom without moving my mouth. This is about what was running through my mind: “If he runs away with the camera, I’m ready to run after him. I have my feet in a starting block position. I am tensed and ready to take off. What’s he doing now? Why is he taking so long? He’s going to run. I’m ready for him. I’ll get him and wrestle the camera away from him.” Needless to say, half of Vietnam was on that camera, and I wasn’t about to lose that.

I was absolutely convinced that the guy was going to run off with the camera to the point where I had no explanation as to why I gave him the photo in the first place. I was looking around the area to see where he might run off to and which route I would take. I missed my calling as a secret agent.

The guy ended up taking the photo and handing the camera back. Then he wanted us to take a photo of him, which meant that he might not be a Vietnamese guy. I still can’t tell. When we were taking the photo of him, I doubt he was thinking the same thing that I was, but that’s probably because he’s not from the states. That just goes to show you that these Vietnamese are some of the nicest and most pleasant people that I have met on my trip thus far. It’s been an absolute pleasure here.

From the statue of the Vietnamese gentleman, we walked along the pond/lake for a while, through an odd sculpture park that seemed a bit odd even for sculpture. But, what we did find along the pond/lake was a vendor selling masks. I was quite happy that I found my mask. What intrigued me the most was that the variety of masks was greater than anywhere else I’ve ever seen, so I had to get two that were so different that they had to be a part of my collection. Again, it felt like another weight had been lifted off my shoulders – at least until the next port.

We walked through some interesting side streets before turning back to head back to the hotel, because we had gone quite a distance away already. Something to note of the streets in Hanoi, there are quite a number of streets where only one item is sold on the entire street. It’s quite obvious when you’re on that street. Every shop is selling pocketbooks on the street. Then the next street over, it’s all shoes. So if you’re looking for something specific, you’re looking for a street, not necessarily one shop in particular. It’s a convenient way of doing business, but it would never happen back in the states – we take competition too seriously.

Mom and I stopped at the backpack street and tried to finagle our way to getting a nice deal on a backpack. We did. Nice backpack. We decided that I’ve had the same backpack for six or seven years, but my brother goes through the same backpacks in about a year or two, so it was going to him.

Walking back to the hotel, we had to cross a number of streets, and by this time of the day, we were becoming professional at this, and I don’t use professional lightly. This is something that could be considered an Olympic sport; certainly much more so than water polo.

Also on the way back, we decided that Hanoi is a fun city, just because of what it is and how it works. There’s no magic formula, but the way that the old French architecture mixes with the modern Vietnamese culture is fun to watch. And any city where walking is entertaining, actually entertaining, is money in the bank.

So we go back to the hotel, and go upstairs to freshen up because we still had a few minutes before we had to meet back downstairs for the evening’s fun-filled festivities. Our destination for the evening, before dinner, was something called a water-puppet show. Just like Malaysia had puppets of shadows, Vietnam apparently has puppets of water. I was hoping that the water puppets would be better than the shadow puppets. They certainly couldn’t be worse. Although it just may have seemed worse because I was becoming ill at the time in Malaysia. An illness that is still persisting in me, but is coming and going with not a high frequency. It should go away eventually…I hope.

We boarded the buses and went to the center of Hanoi, which was about the exact spot where Mom and I decided to turn around and come back. In fact, we walked by this odd looking place described as a ‘water puppet theater’ and figured that it must be where we were going for the evening, although we didn’t want to chance it because as far as we knew at the time, there could be a water puppet theater on every other block. The only thing I know about the water puppets is that they’re apparently quite renown far and wide.

We pulled up to the theater and went through the all too familiar ordeal of trying to figure out the ticket process. Our tour guide went ahead to get them for us and then we were given odd instructions about walking to one side of the staircase and given the option to purchase something additional on the way in. None of it made much sense to me.

So, we go into the theater, and along with a small program about the show that we were going to see, we get a fan that did not appear to be in the greatest state of disinfection. It was ample to get the job done, but I don’t think that it would be something that I would be taking with me on the way out of the theater.

Much to my surprise, the theater looked quite like a theater, with rows of seating and an old style to the look. It did have its differences; the rows were incredibly close to one another, nearly on top of one another and my legs had absolutely nowhere to go. It was going to be a relatively uncomfortable presentation. Obviously another major difference in this theater was the fact that the stage was largely a pool of greenish water. To the left side of the stage was where the ‘band’ sat, and there were a number of other scenery decorations and prop-style stuff scattered around the perimeter of the pool of water. Directly behind the pool was a curtain where the puppeteers would stand, also about mid-thigh deep in water.

From what I understand of the story, this water puppet stuff has been in Vietnam for a very long time, and it was something that was done before there were proper methods of cleanliness, so the puppeteers would often die early in their lives from diseases that they received from standing in mid-thigh stagnant water in random ponds/lakes a long, long time ago. Since that time, I can only hope and assume that the practices have become safer for the puppeteers.

The way the puppets work is that there is a wooden figure on a stick, and that stick runs under the surface of the water, and under a curtain at the back of the pool and into the hands of the puppeteer who can do all sorts of things with the puppets. So they are not suspended from above, but working under the veil of the lovely opaque green water. It’s tough to take a photo of the action, but here’s one of the better ones:















I think the best way to describe the water puppet show is that parts of it were fun, and other parts of it were ehhhh. There were dragons shooting sparks out of their mouths circling each other on the water, and that was a lot of fun, and other times, there was just puppets running around the surface of the water.

It seems like some kind of off-Broadway show that travels via word of mouth, and I’m actually quite surprised that I have not seen or heard of water puppets until now. It seems like such a different art form that certainly by now Cirque du Soliel would have done something with it. Right?

The show was just under an hour, which was about all my knees could take – they were firmly planted into the back of the seat in front of me, and I’m pretty sure that I was starting to lose circulation. As we walked back out into the lobby, I realized all the odd stuff that was around were versions of the water puppets featured in the show. They were trying to sell a bunch of them, but I had to ask myself, what am I going to do with a water puppet? Do I have a water puppet theater in which to perform shows? And most importantly, who will want to come see my private water puppet functions?

After the show was dinner, and it was about time because it was starting to get a bit late into the evening; and I was starting to get hungry. The place we ate at was towards the other end of town, and I believe the place we ate at was called Wild Rice, which isn’t exactly the catchiest name for a restaurant, but I bet that it sounds much more exciting when spoken in Vietnamese.

Much like the place we had lunch in yesterday, the place near the infamous intersection, it was a relatively skinny building, but with high ceilings. The interior of this place was a little more furbished and modern looking, which while appealing to the eye, was not so much to the ear. I don’t know if I have ever been in a room with worse acoustics than the place we had dinner tonight. Mom and I sat at a table with a daughter and her parents, and the father was at the other end of the table, and nary heard a word that was spoken, and he was only four feet away from us.

On top of the awful acoustics of Wild Rice, dinner wasn’t that great, it paled in comparison to what we ate for lunch. And, from when we sat down to when everyone finished their tea after dinner, was two hours. That wasn’t because we were all having such a good time, the food that was brought out was so spaced out that one plate would come out for the table and when we would finish it, we would have to wait 20 minutes for more, and by that time we were starving again, because the plates weren’t that large to begin with.

Overall, dinner was ehhh, much like parts of the water puppet show. I felt bad for the father at our table because he often looked very bored and was looking around the room because he just couldn’t hear anything – it really was that bad. Mom and I had to lean in to make sure that we heard each other. So when our marathon dinner was finally over, we were quite happy.

The buses were waiting outside the restaurant, and somehow someone got to talking to the guide and we learned that we were on the same street as the hotel, just a number of blocks away. About half the group wanted to walk, and the other half bused back. What did Mom and I do? Do you have to ask? The guide wished us luck and safety on our walk as the buses drove away.

To set the scene, it’s completely dark outside, and it’s about 10 o’clock, and there are a few streetlights here and there, and there’s really very few people out at all. The streets aren’t very busy at all. But somehow traveling in our decently sized group felt safe. But Mom and I, the way we are, didn’t want to hang back and walk slowly, because that’s annoying, so as time went on, and the group stretched out, we worked our way from the back of the group to the front, really walking at our normal speed.

We made it back to the hotel about fifteen minutes later, and it was a very nice walk through what looked like a nice part of the city. At least, I think it looked nice; it really was quite dark and deserted. Back at the hotel, we went upstairs to end our evening. While we were getting ready for bed, I was flipping the channels on the TV, and we came across what looked an awful lot like Bowling for Dollars. It was all in Vietnamese, but there were contestants bowling, for what looked like money, so here in Vietnam, I guess that would be Bowling for Dong – I don’t think that title would work back in the states. That’s when we decided to go to bed.

We were up at 6:30 on Vietnam Day 4, and somehow, with about 8 hours of sleep, the longest continuous stretch of sleep that I think I’ve had in weeks, I feel even more tired. I’m not sure how that works, but I do not like it. We went downstairs to the semi-buffet breakfast, and again, breakfast wasn’t that great, probably because I don’t like breakfast to begin with, so I might be biased. But I wasn’t all that impressed.

After breakfast we loaded up into the bus and headed off to Ho Chi Minh’s Mausoleum. There’s nothing like seeing a preserved old dead guy right after eating. We drove over to the place, and there’s quite a bit of security because apparently this place is a big deal. It’s also apparently quite popular. The queue for the mausoleum was huge. The first part of the line was for security where you would have to leave all the video equipment and other miscellaneous items. I had my camera in my pocket, which we were allowed to, we just couldn’t take it out for photos at the mausoleum, and considering what was around, I wasn’t about to do that.

Once we were through security, there was a break in the line because we could now walk to the end of the line in front of us that was to enter the mausoleum. Looking around, you can tell that you’re somewhere important because of all the official looking people with weaponry. It’s like being around the Capitol back in Washington DC. So the line starts moving, and eventually the line moves onto a red carpet as we walk towards the mausoleum and the entrance steps. There’s people yelling for people to be quiet, and people not being quiet, and I wasn’t about to talk in eyesight of one of them, we must remember that we are still officially in a communist country.

Inside the mausoleum the line moves at a gentle pace in and out of the mausoleum because they’re not going to let you stop. If you stop, then there are going to be problems. So we go inside and the line snakes to the left and goes up some steps and eventually opens up into a very high ceiling. The walls are all stone and a dark gray. There’s an elevated walkway about fifteen feet above the ground that goes around the perimeter of the room where we were walking. In the space on the ground are very official and scary looking people. In the center of the room beneath two giant red flags, one with a star, the other with a hammer and sickle, is Ho Chi Minh, entombed in an ornate glass box. The body appeared awfully white bathed in a yellowish light. He almost looked like porcelain.

Once you walk through the center room, you go back down the steps and outside where I felt comfortable to breathe again. After debating the experience briefly, we began a tour of the complex. The mausoleum is merely the centerpiece of a sprawling complex of Ho Chi Minh. We stopped out in front of the mausoleum for reasons I don’t know, but it appeared to be the area where they parade their military all marching in sync with their weapons. There were some stands and a lot of speakers above our heads. Here are Mom and I at the spot:















From there, we went over to his big yellow French-styled house, and someone got yelled at for walking beyond the ‘do not pass this sign.’ And it was written in English. Silly Americans. From there, we walked around the grounds that used to be where Ho Chi Minh used to live. The giant yellowish house is what Ho Chi Minh used to use for guests. Towards the end of his life, he lived in a small two or three room structure built on stilts in another part of the grounds. It was small, but looked semi-comfortable if you ask me.

As we walked around the grounds that we at one point not that crowded, the schoolchildren started to arrive – in droves. I felt like I was back at the Bronx Zoo on the one day when all the schools decide to come at the same time – times ten. I’m not sure why, but Mom was taking photos of the children.















Where once there were a few children, there were now so many children around that we could not walk on the paths. It was amazing where the all came from. We spent a little more time walking around and looking at Ho Chi Minh’s stuff, which was mostly interesting, and the area was very pretty. They’ve done a lovely job with the upkeep.

So from there we boarded the buses and headed over to the war and military museum. The museum has a few components to it. There’s one building that has stuff from the war with the French, which was the war before the Americans came in, and then the other building is for what they call around here, the American War. And outside is an area of Vietnamese, French, and American war craft. There’s a giant plane you’ll see in a photo soon, and there’s tanks and an assortment of collectables.

First, our guide told us that we were going to see a ‘movie’ in the French building and we should all go in there. It was blisteringly hot in that room. Apparently there was a tour group that arrived there just before us, and I believe they were Chinese, so the locals had to have been irked, and we had to wait about 15 minutes until the next “movie.”

In the mean time, there was an assortment of information and pieces of the French war, and it was quite interesting reading up on that because it was a war that I had really never heard of. And as interesting as it was, it was something that only sustains one’s interest for a determinate length of time, and that length of time is less than the length of the “movie” we were waiting to watch. Not a good sign.

When it finally ended, we went over and sat in the front row because we figured there had the highest likelihood of keeping me awake. Let’s not forget that I awoke this morning more tired than when I went to bed. It’s been a bit of a struggle so far today. I’ve been running on empty once or twice before this voyage, and today marked the occasion where I was pretty sure that I would not have the chance to recover until we’re somewhere in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.

The “movie” consisted of a model laid out in front of us with little red dots lighting up showing the movement of troops throughout the area. There was a projection about the size of a t-shirt in the rear of the model. There was English narration for us; they had to switch over from the Chinese they used the film before. All in all, there wasn’t much to hold my attention – until – the Vietnamese emerged victorious and a four-inch flag popped up. Even Spielberg would have be jealous…well, maybe not.

I completely missed the direction our guide gave us as we were exiting the “movie” and instead Mom and I went off on our own. As we’ve been driving around Hanoi, we’ve noticed that there has been a giant watchtower-like monument that can be seen from far and wide, and Mom and I went to climb it. We were trying to beat the rush, but in reality there was no rush to climb a gargantuanly tall watchtower. It was rather clear as we began to go up that it was built for people shorter than myself:















The steps up to the top seemed to go on for quite a ways, but once we got to the top, there was quite a lovely view. The problem was that there was one last doorway to clear before emerging at the top, and I did not see it. And when I say that I cracked my head hard against it, there was a quite a bang, and subsequent pain. After taking a minute or two to shake it off, I was able to admire the lovely view of Hanoi. We would have taken photos, but there were signs that said not to. We were trying to figure out why, and we think it’s because at this height you can start to see into the Defense Department area. I don’t think they want photos of that – not that there was anything much to photograph…

While at the top we were also trying to find people from our group to wave to, but nobody was looking up at us, so that wasn’t going to happen. It would have been more exciting if we could have incited someone to look up and exclaim, “How’d they get up there?” or “Look, a bird, no a plane, no its!” – you get the point.

Once my throbbing in my head began to briefly subside, we looked around once more before carefully beginning to descend, looking out for any and all low ceilings and doorways. I was concerned that we would meet someone halfway down because one of us would have to turn about to whence we came, because that narrow winding staircase was only a couple feet wide.

We did not run into any other adventurers on the way down, and stopped at the lower precipice to have another look around the area to see what was around. The leftover war stuff looked very interesting. Below is a lovely photo of me in front of an airplane that nose-dived into the ground. I can’t imagine that there were survivors when that happened.















Once we were back down to ground level, we apparently had some more time to walk around on our own, so we went into the ‘American War’ building. Mom and I walked through it for a little while, but what we realized was that the museum was obviously devoted to how the Vietnamese triumphed over the US. And we really didn’t feel that great walking through there when all it was showed how great Vietnam was for winning and showing how they beat us. That wasn’t a great feeling, so we didn’t hang around there for too much longer.

After we left there, we felt like we pretty much covered the war museum, so there was a bit of wandering around, waiting to figure out when we had to depart. I was going to sit down at a table, but Mom pointed out that there were servers running around and that when we sit down, they’re going to ask us if we want something. So we didn’t sit. But the buses starting moving shortly thereafter, so there was no harm, no foul.

Our tour guide informed us that the portion of the day where we would be driven around to places was done, and that when the bus stopped, we could follow him on a walk-through of some side streets of Hanoi, or just meet back at the hotel for our departure back to the airport later in the afternoon. The group split here with about half staying with the tour guide and the other half off doing whatever they wanted to do, which may have included heading back to the hotel.

Mom and I stuck around because there was no reason not to. Where our tour guide took us was truly different. He basically took us through a market area where people were predominantly selling food. At first it seemed relatively normal, with lots of fruit and odd-looking vegetables lying around, but that must just have been the fruit and odd-looking vegetable section. Because then, I began to question the health standards in the area. I’ll let the below picture speak for itself.















Partway through the walkthrough I was concerned that my jacket around my waist brushed up against some raw meat. I briefly feared for my health and safety, as well as the health and safety of those around me. The fact that meat can be sold in that type of open-air market absolutely floors me. And if there’s that much fresh meat out there, you know that it is purchased, otherwise there wouldn’t be that much out there to begin with. We were there just before the lunch rush, so I’m guessing that some people buy the meat there and walk to somewhere else in the market, have them season it then cook it up. That still doesn’t seem very sanitary to me, but that’s just me.

Walking through the market was more fun than it should have been. It was just a group of wacky Americans walking though a wacky market. What’s so wrong about that? Thankfully, I did not see anyone of our group buy any of the raw meat products. Although, Mom and I were in the front of the group and anything could have been happening in the back of the pack.

Once we emerged from the market, there was a side street that was as bustling as side streets get. It reminded me of Greenwich Village at 2am on a Saturday night. I’m not sure how it did, but it did.















From there, our guide walked us back out to the main road and told us to make sure we were back to the hotel in time for the bus to depart to the airport. Mom and I went further around the street and found an area with a few interesting stores and shopped for a little bit before we began to start thinking about lunch. It was after noon, so by the time we found a place to eat, we would be hungry enough.

We made the decision to head back in the direction of the hotel and figure that we’d find a place along the way. As we were walking back, Mom was telling me about a place that we had passed on the bus a couple of times. It was called the Sofitel Hotel and she was pretty sure that that was the place where her boss stayed when he came to Hanoi a few months prior. We figured that they would have a decent menu, as they supposedly have quite the buffet as well, although not a normal buffet…

So we find the Sofitel, and you know it’s a nice hotel when there are classic cars parked out in front and there’s a loop where a doorman comes up and opens your door. Needless to say, it’s a nice looking place. We walk by one part and see that inside there’s a restaurant-looking place. There was a menu on the outside and we were enticed at the thought of a reasonably priced ham and cheese sandwich. That was really all we needed to make the decision.

Then came the difficult part, which was finding a way in. We didn’t see any entrances into the restaurant, or doors that looked like they were unlocked. So we go around the corner, and there’s another door there, I pull on the door, and it doesn’t open, and there’s a host standing right inside that looks at me for a moment before coming over to open the door. I thought he was going to chase us away for acting like the ‘riff-raff.’ But he let us in, and we were seated.

The place looked quite fancy, and empty. They sat us down, handed us menus and asked us if we wanted any wine with our lunch. This was the first sign that something was awry. We declined and then realized as we looked through the menu that there was no sign of the previously advertised ham and cheese sandwich. We looked at each other like we just briefly stepped into the Twilight Zone. The waiter came back and we basically asked where the ham and cheese sandwiches were, and he told us that was the ‘other’ restaurant through the lobby. I wasn’t entirely sure what the mix up was, but as long as we were being directed towards the ham and cheese sandwiches, I was fine.

The other restaurant seemed to be treated like the lesser of the two restaurants, but I thought it looked nicer. It was brighter and more like a real restaurant, and not over the top. We were handed the menus and were delighted to see that ham and cheese sandwiches were available here, about forty feet away from the other table we just relieved, on the other side of the lobby.

As I perused the menu further, I saw that there was a small pasta section, and the spaghetti looked very good to me. The spaghetti on the ship, and the pasta at large is not appetizing at this point in the voyage. I was in the mood for a ham and cheese sandwich, but if I could get a good bowl of spaghetti, I would be incredibly satisfied. So Mom stuck with her ham and cheese sandwich, and I went with the spaghetti, hoping for the best.

As we looked around, we realized that we were going to miss the buffet I was talking about earlier, and I was quite upset about it because it’s not just any buffet, it’s a decadent chocolate buffet. I’ve never heard of or seen a chocolate buffet, but what I can imagine is the thing of legend. And it starts after our bus departs for the airport. As I always say (for the sake of my sanity,) you have to have something to come back for. And I do say that in every country so far.

Our lunches came out, and my spaghetti was so good. Stuff is always better after a period of deprivation. Mom’s ham and cheese sandwich was also very good, so she says, and I can attest to as well because the bite I had was also quite good. All in all, we had a very nice lunch. Much nicer than I thought we’d be able to find. I was impressed with Hanoi, as I have been for the past three days.

Then came the option of dessert, and while there were only a small handful of choices, I selected the chocolatiest one I could find, and when that came out, I was then really upset that I was missing the buffet. That chocolate dessert was something to write home about. Although, I didn’t have to because Mom was already here. Lunch was great. I was in Hanoi with Mom. I couldn’t have been happier.

We still had a bunch of time to kill before we had to be back at the hotel, so we went over to the area where we were the afternoon before, in the city center area. We figured that with the remaining time left that we have in Vietnam that we might want to exchange some more of our money into Vietnamese dong, because we weren’t sure that we would have enough. I remembered seeing a place yesterday that looked like a place to exchange money, and remarkably, we were able to find our way back there.

We exchanged some money, and then Mom went on to tell me that she had not done a whole lot of shopping to bring stuff home. Apparently, Mom can’t take a trip to Vietnam and not bring stuff home for everybody. So we went off to look for stuff, and lazily stroll down some streets in Hanoi. At this point, I must have been in a good mood and not thinking straight because since lunch, a moving vehicle has nearly hit me twice. Thank goodness Mom was there to grab my arm and stop me from entering into the path of danger.

I’m not sure what happened, but needless to say, we lost track of time a bit. I looked at my Indian watch and told Mom that we need to start heading back to the hotel. We were about a half-hour walk away, at least. So, getting back, packing up, and checking out would be a good idea. I wouldn’t say that we rushed or hurried back to the hotel, but we did ‘walk with a purpose.’ An important purpose at that. And even at this point, a number of days in Vietnam, and two or three here in Hanoi, crossing the street never gets old. I’m really going to miss it.

We made it back with (some) time to spare. But it was certainly sufficient to make the bus as we were supposed to. Miraculously, all of the other passengers on the bus also made it back in time, so we left for the airport on time. I don’t think I have been in port where we were going back to the airport and everyone was on time. I tell you, these parents probably still have a trick or two stuffed up their sleeves.

I was snapping in and out of awake consciousness on the way back to the airport. The sights are always a sight to see, so the few times that I missed stuff, I was rather annoyed. Eventually, I felt like I was back home on my way to JFK because we hit backed up traffic. As we drove past, there was apparently an accident. I didn’t see it. I was on the other side of the bus and I tried to lean over to catch a glimpse, but alas, I missed it. From those who saw it, it sounded like a really good one. But in all the wacky driving that I’ve seen while in Vietnam, that accident remains the first and only one that I recall seeing (well, really hearing about.)

So, we arrive at the airport, wish our guide well, and figure out what to do from there. Our passports were held by the Semester at Sea trip leaders, and somehow Mom and I had ours in short time, so we went right up to a short line in front of a counter to get our boarding passes. From there, it seemed like nobody knew where we were supposed to be going, but Mom and I went right through security and over to our gate without a problem. Unlike the secluded boxes in the airport in Ho Chi Minh City, there were none here, so we were able to roam if we want to.

By the time we arrived at the gate, we had over an hour before departure, so we sat down and hung out. Not long after we arrived, somebody went to go stand in line to board the plane. Then another person went in line to board the plane, then another, and before we knew it, the line was stretching over 100 people long, and boarding had not started yet. Mom and I looked at one another like we were missing something. While we may have been missing something, I think those in line may have been missing more. Missing things like a point, or a purpose.

They stood in that line like their lives depended on it. They stood in that line for at least fifteen minutes before the flight was even beginning to board. It was Mom and I in the seats, as well as a few other parents and students, and some of the lifelong learners, mixed in with a few locals. Other than that, everyone else was in line like they didn’t have seat assignments. I got a few more sudoku puzzles done while sitting down. Mom read through some magazines. Then once the line shortened down to about fifteen or twenty, we hopped on line and walked on the plane.

Mom and I had seats next to one another, with an aisle between us. The two seats next to Mom’s left were the Whitneys, two of the trip leaders for the trip. He’s a professor and she’s the wife. To my right were the Christies. Next to me was the wife, and to her right was the infamous global studies professor. I have nothing against him, but I do have something against the class. I tried to have a conversation with both of them, but only the wife entertained the thought while I tried. It’s okay – I had a book to read and Mom across the aisle.

Much like our departure to Hanoi, here there were also screens so that we could watch the launch ourselves. The screens are like a train wreck. You don’t want to watch, but you can’t take your eyes off of it. It’s like I might be able to do something if I see something happen. As usual, nothing happened, but watching us fly up into the great hazy yonder, and especially seeing the empty runway sitting in front of us, is quite a memorable part of the trip.

The flight was only a few hours, and much like the flight up to Hanoi, it was one of the best flights of the voyage, just for the uneventfulness of it. I have nothing to complain about with the flight, and I’d call that unusual. When we landed, there was so much confusion that you would think FEMA was running the show. Some people were forced to check some of their luggage, so we had to wait for them, and the group separated somehow.

On top of it all, along with our group, there was also another Semester at Sea trip on our flight, so nobody knew where to go or what to do. So once the interior outside of the baggage carousel filled up, we all spilled outside to wait around in an area where there was an access road that was under construction with big plywood fences, and there’s a bunch of lost Americans standing around looking for direction and apparently still trying to square things away with some people somewhere.

I’m not entirely sure who took the initiative to walk around the corner to the parking area, because we couldn’t see it from where we were, but it was a brilliant idea and whoever did it should be commended. The parking lot seemed to look much different in the dark now, than when it did a few days ago when we were walking into the terminal at daybreak. It was clear that nobody knew where to go, but we were conditioned to move towards the large coach buses in the middle of the parking lot, assuming that they were for us.

Sure enough, all the buses were for Semester at Sea, but each but was something a little different. Half the buses were for the other trip that was also on our flight, and of the two remaining buses for our trip, one was going to stop at the parents’ hotel and the other bus was going to go directly to the ship. The trouble was that nobody knew which bus was which, so we decided which bus was which and boarded whichever one all the other parents and kids were going on.

Confusion was the name of the game again, but it no longer fazes me. I’m not sure how, but it looked like everyone made it away from the terminal and into a bus. At least I hoped they did – I didn’t take a head count on the bus. As this bus was the parent bus, the vast majority of people on the bus were scheduled to be on the Mekong Delta trip the following day. The trick of it was that nobody knew any information about who would meet what bus and where. The stories sounded like buses were going back and forth between the hotel and the ship in incorrect orders, then people were going to meet at the delta, and then the timing was well before 7 in the morning, and I’m not sure how an answer produced itself, but it did. I think the tour operator at the front of the bus calling his boss had a bit to do with that. It didn’t sound like they actually worked out the specifics of what they would do yet, but by the end of the half-hour bus ride, I think everything was straightened out. And yes, it did take the entire length of the bus ride back into downtown Ho Chi Minh City to iron out the logistics. At least the logistics were ironed out.

We arrived at the hotel for what I was sure to be a bit of fun because all the parents that went on the trip had to vacate their rooms, store their luggage with the hotel, and now find that luggage as well as their new room assignment. So we go into the hotel, and into the atrium area behind the lobby while Mom figures out her room assignment and luggage stuff. They were handing out fruity drinks, so I sat down and enjoyed my beverage while Mom went off to wherever she went off to.

She came back about five or so minutes later and I helped her with her luggage into the room. But the room was a smoking room. And the last person must have been a chain smoker because the smell was quite strong. It was strong enough to the point where it was unpleasant. Once we moved everything into the room, we went back outside to the atrium area to the little desk they had set up to see if they could switch rooms. Apparently there’s some kind of national holiday going on the upcoming weekend (have I been in a country yet where there hasn’t been some kind of national holiday – real or fake?) and this giant hotel is booked solid. Other parents were also there complaining that they had smoking rooms as well, and nobody was getting anything changed. Nobody was thrilled.

I’m not sure how the information circulated, but somebody was able to get their room switched. There was a small flutter of activity as we figured out that that person went to the main front desk in the front lobby instead of the atrium. So, Mom and I, willing to try again so she wouldn’t develop emphysema while she was sleeping went down to the front desk to try our luck and see if there were any other rooms available.

I have to say that the lobby must not be talking to the atrium, in a one hand not talking to the other scenario, because they put Mom in a new room like there was never a problem in the world. It was a few floors higher, but there’s a working elevator. We were shocked at how easy it was to switch rooms down in the lobby. There was no problem whatsoever. The trick would now be to find Mom’s roommate so that she could also learn that the rooms were switched and so that all the luggage could be moved way up to the new room.

So Mom and I packed up the little that we had unpacked in the emphysema room and shuttled up to the new room that smelled like nothing – no smoke. A world of difference. Mom was still slightly annoyed that we were on the side of the hotel that had a lovely view of the adjacent hotel, but there was no smoke so all was well in the world. Well, almost – the room was right next to the elevators and those aren’t known for being the quietest of places in a hotel. Once we finally got everything into the new room, we figured that it was still early in the night and we were still a little hungry, so we were going to go out and look for ice cream.

So we walked out of the room and as the door shut, we realized that the room keys were still sitting in the room. Sometimes you’ve got to laugh. So we went back down to the lobby desk, not the atrium desk, and said that we locked the keys in the room. We figured there might be some trouble with this, because Mom had no ID on her or anything to prove that that was her room. But alas, the person just gave us another key – no questions asked. While being incredibly convenient, it does not leave a feeling that the hotel is the most secure of places, if they’re giving out room keys to anyone, any room. Mom and I didn’t feel all that great about that, but we had a room key. We went back up to grab the real key and a few other items we forgot to take with us, and then we were finally off to look for ice cream.

I did not remember seeing a place that we passed along the way, but we were sure that there had to be places to have ice cream in a city. Right? Well, yes, it is right, there are places to find ice cream. We found one relatively close to the hotel and went in and ordered our ice cream. In the States, when you order ice cream, they do it right there for you, in relatively short time. In this particular Vietnamese café, you go sit down and they’ll bring it to when they feel like it. It’s not like the place was busy either. There were only a few other people in there, but we were in no hurry.

So I’m facing the wall away from the counter, and Mom keeps looking over my shoulder making odd faces like she’s seeing something wrong. Eventually turn around and it appears that they’re preparing something that does not look like two dishes of ice cream. It was a bizarre looking item that did not resemble ice cream in any way. This is where we got to figuring that in Vietnam they do ice cream differently, or that they got our order completely wrong. It was one of the two, but we weren’t sure which one.

Then they tray up the items, whatever they are, and they bring them in our direction, and right past us to someone else in the café. We had failed to think that that was not our dessert that was being prepared. We had a good laugh with that one. It’s those crazy Americans again thinking that everything was going to be done for them first. It really was quite entertaining to laugh at our blunder.

A few minutes later, somewhat to our surprise, two dishes of ice cream emerged to be exactly what we ordered. Even more to our surprise was that it was actually quite tasty ice cream. I didn’t think the Vietnamese could make a decent ice cream, but I was wrong again. I liked being wrong here. We had a lovely little dessert on night four in Vietnam. It was also nice to relax after the big Hanoi trip we just got back from. But, as is always true with this trip, relaxation and rest never last for long.

It was getting on in the evening and we had to be up for our trip to the Mekong Delta in the morning, which is supposedly known for running long, not something that I want to happen tomorrow, but more on that a little later on. Mom and I walked back through the mean streets of Ho Chi Minh City back to the hotel, where we went back upstairs so I could get my travel backpack, then back downstairs so I could head back to the ship. Also with me was the charger for Mom’s camera so that I could charge up her battery and she would be able to use her camera for the rest of the trip. It’s a big responsibility.

We had the guy outside the hotel grab a cab for me, and off I went back to the ship, in a completely different way than I went the last time. If I thought I was being taken for a ride before, now I really felt like I was going to end up tied to a chair and on a grainy video on the internet in a few days. But like the last time, the driver made a final turn and there was the ship, a shining beacon in all its glory. I paid the driver and made my way back onto the ship, happy that there was no line that I had to stand on to get back to the ship, because I’m sure there was one when those buses pulled back up to the ship.

I came onto the ship and once I made it back to the room, running a bit on autopilot because I was still dead tired, I went in showered, and then unpacked the backpack and repacked it for the next day. This backpack is getting a lot of use out of me. I don’t know why, but I decided to fool around with my iPod to see if I could resuscitate it back to life. I fooled around with it for about a half hour, and like a gift from above, it worked like new. I felt quite happy about that. Then, as soon as I could, I went to bed.

It was Friday April 13 when I woke up, but if you told me it was May or Monday I wouldn’t have known, or really cared. Days and dates mean very little out here. That’s why the thought never crossed my mind that it was Friday the 13th. I’m actually quite glad that I hadn’t known. It’s not that I’m superstitious, just a little stitious.

I was up at 7 (a late day) so breakfast was open at the time that I needed it, which is something that never happens. I went out on the back deck and enjoyed my breakfast and I realized that as I was eating, the scene was just so perfect, lovely, and spendictacular. I took a photo because it really summarizes the trip perfectly. (Mom’s hotel is the tall white one next to the tall brown one.)



















The juxtaposition of the amenities and life on the ship versus the reality of the countries we visited could not have been better. It was a beautiful morning, and I had a feeling in me that was as close to perfection that I have had few times before. Everything was great, and I’m not even setting this up for something bad to come. It was just lovely. And on top of it all, I still had one more day with Mom.

After breakfast, we met up with the ship group and headed down to the buses, where Mom was waiting and saving a seat for me. And the first thing she asks for is the charger for the camera, and I still had it sitting up in the room. This was only going to make a complicated day a little more complicated. The new wrinkle was that I had to go back into the ship, get the charger, and come back out. It doesn’t sound bad, but let’s get to the meat and potatoes of the day first.

If you remember, way back on the first day in Vietnam I was measured for a suit, and we still needed to go pick it up sometime today. That place closes at 7. The Mekong Delta trip is scheduled to be back at 4:30, but the rumor is that most trips this week (we’re the fourth) have been an average of an hour late. When we get back to the ship, I’m going to have to stand in line to get the charger, then get over to the suit place, and if any one of these chinks in the armor fail and take a long time, then there’s going to be a problem. I didn’t want to be, but I was stressed during the day, much more than I would have like to have been. Mom was not. What a surprise. And with that, we were off on another adventure.

We were headed for the My Tho area of the Mekong Delta, and that’s about a two-hour bus ride from greater Ho Chi Minh City. The drive meanders from the outskirts of the city to miles of rice fields and through smaller towns and markets. It harkens back to something I mentioned earlier in the voyage that I don’t like to sleep on bus rides because I like to look out the window at the world that whips by. The sights are always different and there’s always something interesting to see. However, as the trip goes on, it does become increasingly difficult to maintain that ability to stay awake on an otherwise boring bus ride. Unless that bus ride is in India and it is impossible to rest with all the honking and bumps in the road.

But the bus ride was not just two straight hours of driving, because there were a few stops factored in that sent the ride over two hours. The first was what we’ll call a market, for a lack of a better term. It was here that I came to grasp why the bird flu is prevalent in this part of the world. Here, let me show you around the market:















Those ducks are in quite close vicinity to dead ducks. I chose not to include that photo. But around the corner from those ducks are live chickens next to dead chickens in an incredibly unsanitary market. It may have been the most unsanitary market of the trip, and that’s saying a lot. It’s not that the market could be described as ‘squalor’, but I would not buy anything that could not be cleansed with bleach. The word ‘bizarre’ almost does not do this market justice. Before the voyage began, I was mildly concerned about stuff like the bird flu, and while I know that especially Vietnam has done much to combat the disease, I’ve learned how a disease like that can spread – very easily.

And wouldn’t you know, some people found this bizarre market to be their shopping mecca and came back on the bus with all sorts of stuff. I didn’t notice anything living, or formerly living.

A little further down the road we came upon what we’ll call, for a lack of a better term, a rest stop. In actuality that’s what it was and it was far nicer than anything I’ve ever seen on the Pennsylvania or New Jersey turnpike. Any bathroom that has moist towels (actual towels, not a towelette) waiting for you outside is a nice bathroom. Also at the rest stop was a little store that sold snacks as well as an assortment of other items. What we could not figure out was why there was so much Tintin. There were no actual books, but art of the cover. Obviously Tintin in Vietnam was the most prevalent, even though it was not one of the original twenty-some-odd official stories. Vietnam clearly has some kind of fascination bordering on obsession with Tintin. And I’m not so sure what the deal really is.

After departing that rest stop, we still had to make one more stop at a Buddhist temple before arriving in the delta. Mom said that one of her days in Thailand was spent going from Buddha to Buddha and she was sick of Buddha. I’ve seen quite a bit of Buddha and I was starting to get sick of Buddha, but I know that I’m coming up on a couple countries that really enjoy Buddha, so I tried to control my feelings about all the Buddhism.

The temple was alright. It’s a Buddhist temple, so there’s only so much to do and so many photos to take of stuff. There really isn’t that much to do but walk around. Needless to say Mom and I went through at our own pace and found a nice little store outside where we got a couple nice wooden carvings to hang on the wall back at the house. It was nice that we were able to do that.

Once we all loaded back on the bus, we finally arrived at the Mekong Delta. Just before we exited they told us that we should definitely have a hat. Mom did not, so she had to purchase a hat. She spent a whole dollar on this:















Some pictures really are priceless, as you can see by our hysterical laughter in the photo. (I tried to hold mine for the photo…) Did you notice the color of the chinstrap? Once we arrived at the dock, they loaded us up into rinky-dink boats, something I’m all too familiar with, and headed out into the river. We didn’t know where we were going, but it turned out to be the other side of the river, and that took a few minutes to transit.

Mom’s not that great with the rocking boats in that past, but I’ve noticed her get much better over the years and as the boat rocked, she said she was fine, and she looked fine too, so I’ve got to give her a lot of credit.

The ‘dock’ at the other side of the river was the riverbank itself. We had to make a bit of a jump to land, but I think we all made it. They took us over to some area about thirty feet inland. It was a small building with a wide canopy over a number of tables and chairs like we were going to be served some kind of food or drink substance.

I was right. Women came around and whipped up some kind of tea. Then we had to put stuff in the tea. I’m not sure what else went in with the lime, but it didn’t help. I’m not a big fan of normal tea, so this new kind of tea was something that I wasn’t the biggest fan of. The local spices that went into the tea was floating around inside the cup and it did not help to go down. I think at the time I described the tea as tasting like “drinking cigarette butts.”

As if the wacky tea was not enough, the high concentration of bees in the area meant that the honey was going to come out next. But it wasn’t normal honey; it had a kick to it. I think we did a shot of the honey. I think that’s what they made us to. We shouted something in Vietnamese then downed a shot. That was a unique experience. It woke me up, too. There were local medicinal spices in the tea and honey that are supposed to help you do things like sleep well. At least, that’s what they’re supposed to do. This was actually where the photo above was taken. You can see us enjoying our tea.

After our tea stop, we hustled back out to the boats and off we went for greater adventures. A few minutes later, and somewhere else on the river, we stopped into another bank and exited the boat. This time, we hiked inland for a few minutes before we saw civilization. Again there was some kind of covered structure set up to look like food or drinks were going to be brought out again.

Instead of tea, at this place, they brought out trays of fruit. Mom and I had our table to ourselves and the whole plate to ourselves. I recognized watermelon and pineapple, and there were quite a number of fruits that I did not recognize. I stuck to the pineapple and watermelon. They’ve told us over and over again that if you don’t have to eat the outside of a fruit, you should be good to go.

I really wasn’t sure what was going on with the miscellaneous stops that we were taking. I don’t think what we’ve seen so far is an accurate representation of the Mekong Delta as a whole. While the My Tho area is apparently famous for its orchards, I have read nowhere in the literature about its famous bees and tea. Nor have I actually seen an orchard. The paths we’re walking on are a bit densely forested with tropical vegetation akin to whatever latitude we are on.

Partway through our stay at the fruit stop, some kind of small two-man band wandered their way over from somewhere. It felt a bit like the Vietnamese version of Deliverance. They came out of nowhere with all sorts of foreign looking instruments that our lovely ethnomusicologist would love to get her hands on, so she could show the two-man band how they were playing their own instruments incorrectly. (Remember Malaysia?)

Anyway, once the band cleared out, after playing songs that I’ve actually heard of, we retraced our steps on the trail for a while, and then diverged to find a small tributary littered with quite small canoe/rafts. Mom and I were towards the front so we were in one of the first few minicanoes out of the gate. The minicanoes hold four riders so the trip leader and his wife hopped in the back. The trip leader, for a change of pace, was actually from Semester at Sea back in Virginia and was taking care of all the parents on the parent trip and would be leaving with them, too.

To move the minicanoe there was a small woman at the front and rear of the boat paddling and steering with nothing but a wide stick. It really was quite impressive to watch the power come out of their small bodies. At this point, it really felt like we were in the Mekong Delta in a real sense. It also greatly reminded me of my bioluminescent bay trip in Puerto Rico because where the mangrove branches closed in on the tiny inlet, here the dense vegetation closed in on the tiny inlet that we were paddling down. And when I say ‘we’ I mean the women paddling for us. I was in the front, and this was the cool view I had:















And this was the view I had behind me:



















Mom seemed like she was having a good time. Something we noticed was that the boat in front of us was paddled by two men, and we were closing in on them, and I think if the inlet had been a little wider we would have passed them. Although, I’m not sure if doing something like that would be something that’s accepted in this country. It’s not something that would be in most other countries we visited so far.

It was a lengthy paddle down the inlet, but it was fun the entire way down. As we neared the end we passed a couple larger boats with angry eyes and faces pointed on the bow pointing down towards the water. Those are supposed to keep the mean animals in the water at bay. I’m not so sure that that would work so well.

Our river transport boats had made their way to the mouth of the inlet and were waiting for us. Our minicanoe left us and went right back upstream to get the next batch of people, whoever they were. I don’t think it would be anyone from our group though. But because we were one of the first ones in the water, we had to wait what seemed like an incredibly long time for everyone else to make it back to the boat. And the whole time all I’m seeing is that we’re going to be cutting it closer and closer to make it back to Ho Chi Minh City to run our errands. I was starting to become increasingly concerned.

Once we were all back on the boat, after what seemed like some people went down the inlet twice, we shoved off for the next destination. At this point it was after 1 o’clock, so I figured lunch was next. It wasn’t. The most confounding stop of all was next.

Next we went to a much larger inlet and parked just outside of it. There were large motorboats lined up to take us up the inlet. There were quite a number of motorboats lined up, but there were not enough. Mom and I were in one of the last groups and we had to wait for the first boat to go all the way in, and then come back out to pick us up. That also seemed to take like an incredibly long time.

It took a long time because it was a long ride up the river. The motorboats are quite different from the paddleboats. With the motorboats you get the big, fun wake and an increased chance of rocking and water entering into the craft. I’ve become such a bigger fan of boats over the past few months so anytime I’m on one it’s a great experience.

Once we finally arrived at the ‘dock’ and we disembarked the boat, there was nobody around to tell us where to go or what to do because we arrived so long after everyone else. Eventually someone indicated that we should follow one of two paths, but failed to note which one. I think I figured out that they both led to the same place, but getting to that point was a bit of a struggle.

Following the path we saw the group at yet another covered area, but this time with no tables or chairs. Everyone was just milling around and looking at stuff. But to get there first, we had to cross a wide and semi-deep stream. Instead of putting a bridge together, the locals used a fallen tree and attached a handrail to it. This tree was not large either, so some people really took their time crossing it. I made sure to jet across before any of the slowpokes tried to cross.

We found that this stop on the magical Vietnamese Mekong Delta mystery tour was for a coconut factory. They were making candy out of coconuts. They took us to a candy shoppe. They showed everyone (before we got there) the process and we had to put two and two together from all the stuff everywhere. This was not the Lucille Ball type of candy factory. It was all open air, with open flames and no hairnets. The candy looked like it came out decently, too. A bunch of people was suckered into buying an awful lot of it. It’s like writing a check to a dentist.

Mom and I were both pretty much done with the coconut factory pretty quickly, so we hung around until the crowd started to look bored, and there were there longer than we were, so once people started leaving, we did as well. Instead of walking over the log, we took the other path and did not have nearly as much trouble crossing the ‘ravine.’

I was unfortunately starting to get stressed about making it back to the City in time, but that may have been fueled by the fact that it was after two o’clock and all I’ve had to eat since breakfast was tea, a shot of honey, some pineapple and watermelon, and a coconut candy. So needless to say I was on the hungry side, and I think everyone else was as well. There were four separate groups of Semester at Sea here today, and I think we may have gotten one of the later or last lunches at the seafood place. And what a place that would turn out to be.

Mom and I went back to the motorboat and boarded in. The ride down was as fun as the ride up. Every so often the vegetation along the bank breaks and you can see inside and into the small places where people live. I’m not sure how one goes about attaining property here in the delta, but I can’t imagine it being incredibly difficult.

Once we were all back at the original riverboat, we headed a little further downstream to where we would finally be having lunch. I think they wanted to make sure that we were all good and hungry. I think that was a safe bet at this point. We were walking in as another group was leaving, and apparently back to their buses to head back. I’m not entirely sure how they got so ahead of us, but there’s lots of stuff I don’t know going on today.

So we find a non-vegetarian table because those people have to be sequestered somewhere else, even in the Mekong Delta. That said, all but one or two of the tables were non-vegetarian, so it wasn’t that tough to find a table. As it would turn out, sitting at the vegetarian table may have turned out to be a good idea.

I’m going to be frank about lunch, which at the time they brought it out was closer to dinner – it was the worst meal of the trip – SO FAR. Let’s not forget that we’ve still got quite a number of in-port days remaining in some wacky countries. They brought out an assortment of odd items. Perhaps the most odd of all was the fish. When they were bringing out fish, I thought that that would be a good idea. How can fish go wrong?

Well, it turns out the fish is called Elephant Ear fish. That was the first sign that we were going to begin to spiral wildly out of control here. As if the name of the fish was not bad enough, the fish came out and had not been gutted or prepared or anything that is normally done to fish, even on Survivor. To top it all off, the fish came out mounted, so it could look at you when it was put at your table. This was how our lunch was served to us:















After getting over the fact that it was not a centerpiece, but our lunch, I did not know what to do. I’ve never had to pick a fish apart with the scales still peeling off. Nobody at our table knew what to do. Actually, nobody at any of the other tables knew what to do either. Eventually, someone came around to the tables to show us how we were supposed to be peeling the skin back and digging in for a piece of the meat, and hopefully not coming out with other innards.

Wouldn’t you know that it did not taste good at all? The more and more I tried to eat it, the less I would eat, and the less hungry I became. It really wasn’t good at all. As if that was not enough, they kept bringing out more delectable items. Each one looked worse than the one before it and made the Elephant Ear fish look better by the second. (In case you haven’t figured it out yet, it’s called an Elephant Ear fish because it’s supposed to look like an elephant’s ear. Apparently, the Vietnamese have never seen an elephant before.)

Eventually, they brought out a soup, and it was at this point, I threw in the towel and didn’t bother to look at any more of the food that was being brought out. The soup was an orchestration in itself. It was not brought out in bowls, but a big bowl on top of its own heat source, which had to have been a safety hazard. One person at the table lifted up the lid, and I looked in and saw an amalgamation of unevenly sized chunks of stuff floating around inside a fluid that looked more like stomach contents than a broth. I pulled my seat away from the table and looked to see if anyone else was going to partake in the concoction.

Most people were not being as obvious about the fact that they were unhappy with lunch, but they soon joined me in calling it a day. It took a few minutes, but eventually my table decided to call it a day with lunch. Instead of eating, there was plenty of entertainment in the area because bees were flying around bothering people and stinging the people that were bothering the bees. Even after eating next to nothing, I felt quite full. I kept in the back of my head the fact that dinner would be around the corner.

Before we departed the lovely confines of the pavilion under which we ‘ate,’ I went to the bathroom. On the way back, I noticed that there were deep holes in the land in the area that were not connected to any tributary or inlet. They were just holes in the ground with a couple feet of water in them. I leaned over to take a look at what was in the murky water, and I found swimming Elephant Ear fish. They aren’t even being grown in the river – they’re growing in a dirty hole in the ground. I was quite happy that I did not have more of the fish to eat, because there is zero chance that growing fish in that manner is safe and sanitary on a short or long term basis.

After we were all set to go, we boarded back into the boats and then went upriver about fifteen or twenty minutes back to the initial drop-off point. They really took us up and down the river over the day. I’m not sure why, but some people waited until now to use the bathroom, and they were not nearly as clean as the ones that I just used. That’s what you get for waiting.

The best way to describe the ride back to Ho Chi Minh City was that I was running numbers and scenarios the entire time. I was stressing about how close we were going to cut it making it to the suit place by 7. Without hitting traffic into Ho Chi Minh City at rush hour should have us arriving around 5:30. Then I had to wait on line to get on the ship, a process that has taken up to an hour in the past, then Mom and I need to get to the suit place. There’s a lot of variables going on, and the plan has to be fluid in order to adapt to the changes and circumstances coming down the pike.

I was stressing about it again and as usual Mom was unconcerned. It took nearly three hours to get to the delta and that was with about an hours worth of stops. We left a little after 3:30, and figuring in the two hour transit, that’s where the 5:30 comes from, a full hour after the scheduled arrival time.

I’m not sure what happened, but right around 5 o’clock I could see the ship. I thought my eyes had deceived me. It really looked like we had taken the same route that we had in the morning, so I’m not entirely sure where we made up so much time. We hit traffic, too. That meant that we had some more wiggle room in the master plan, and we had to resort to Plan A. I never get to use Plan A.

So, we pull up to the boat, and I do what I can to hurry off the bus as fast as I can, even though Mom and I were in the backseat, and I made it to be the fifth or sixth person on line. Things were already looking incredibly positive. It appeared that Mom was right all along again. I made it onto the ship within ten minutes and rushed up two decks and down the long hallway to the room.

I threw my backpack onto the bed and grabbed the camera charger before I forgot that for a second time, then went right back the way I came and out of the ship. It was quite an efficient pit stop. And as luck would have it, the shuttle bus was minutes away from leaving to go downtown, saving us the trouble of waiting or finding a cab. Things were almost going too well.

The bus was nearly empty if we weren’t the only two people on it. As we were pulling out of the dock, the fourth and final bus from the Mekong Delta pulled in, and the line to get into the ship had grown to at least 15 to 20 people at that time, as it looked like another group arrived back while I was in the ship.

Mom and I departed the bus once it arrived outside of the Rex Hotel and but faith in each other that we would remember where the suit place was. The map that we had wouldn’t be any help because it was no help in finding the place in the first place. We both agreed on a side street to walk up, and we were both correct.

We walked into the suit place and the women all told us that we were the last one to pick up our order. It seems as though the two guys who put in an order for 17 hundred suits apiece had taken the opportunity to come earlier in the day and be out of our way. I tried on my suit, and it fit great. I was quite glad that there was no need for adjustments. There was a rumor swirling around that the suits are made loose and then have to be adjusted after the fitting. But that did not appear to be the case here. And I was thrilled about it. We left the suit place with over an hour of time to spare before they were to close. And I was now walking around the streets of Ho Chi Minh City with a suit over my shoulder.

And now the biggest decision and problem on our hands was whether to have dinner at a steak or Italian place. It’s amazing how things work out sometimes. I’m not used to that. While Mom and I did not have all the time in the world to spend with each other now, the white elephant that that was, I still had about four hours before I was due back on the ship, and I planned to enjoy my waning hours in Vietnam.

Even though time was ample, it wasn’t plentiful so we rushed over to the Italian restaurant, Santa Lucia, on the main avenue of downtown. We did quite well crossing the street. It’s a piece of cake down here compared to what it was up in Hanoi. This was like child’s play. I’m not sure why I settled on the Italian option, but I did. I think it was because the ship does not do Italian well and I really wanted another good meal before departing. I had a feeling that China and Japan would have a few tricks up their sleeves for food.

Our dinner was very good. The table of parents and student next to us agreed as well. It was nice to actually fill my belly as opposed to convincing myself that it was full so I wouldn’t have to eat anymore. Needless to say, I did not order the Elephant Ear fish. I don’t even think it was on the menu, although I really didn’t study the fish section tonight.

Just as I was upon entering Vietnam earlier in the week, I was happy. I had a great week and I spent it with Mom. What’s better than that? I can’t say enough about how much of a great time that Mom and I had. I loved every second of it. There’s not another person I would have rather done it with. And I’ve got to hand it to her – Mom did an excellent job for her first time out of the US. It felt like she’s been doing this forever.

After our dessert, we left the restaurant and started heading back to Mom’s hotel. We were discussing what to do in the morning. We were not leaving the dock until about 8 or 9 in the morning because the tide has to come in to exit the river safely. Mom was deciding whether or not she was going to go to the dock to watch the ship depart in the morning. I said I have my Global class starting around 9:20, and I’d only be getting up just before that because I was looking forward to catching up on some sleep. Mom said that she’d watch the ship leave from the hotel. And I said that was fine.

At this point, we were about at Mom’s hotel and we executed a move that we have much practiced on my many departures to and from college. I call it the quick goodbye. In one fluid, we got a cab and without any delay I wished Mom well on her trip back home, and she wished me well on the rest of my trip and she’ll see me in about a month in San Diego. There was a quick kiss and hug, then I was in the cab and gone before we both started tearing up. I made it into the cab before that happened. I’m going to guess Mom didn’t make it much further.

Again, a completely different route was taken back to the ship, but I made it to the ship, and not some dark room in an abandoned warehouse. I had to come back to the ship sooner rather than later in case there was a line to get in. Getting in late would mean dock time and not being able to leave the ship straight away when we pull into Hong Kong. And my trip to China leaves as we are pulling into port, so being late tonight was totally out of the question.

I made it back with 80 minutes to spare to on-ship time, and miraculously there was no line at all to board back onto the ship. And they didn’t check my suit for anything either. I found that unusual.

I did everything that I could to get to bed as soon as possible. There was no reason to stay up any later than necessary. I may have hit a record for how long it took me to shower and get into bed.

I awoke around 9 o’clock the next morning to the sound of the engines rumbling to life. I realized that we had not left port yet. I thought to myself a question: “Mom and I both said that we would not go out to look for one another on the dock. Why do I think that I should be going out to have a look?”

I’ve heard of people having connections with one another. That they know what the other is thinking at all times. I don’t have that with anyone. But what I do have with Mom is some bizarre otherworldly connection. It’s mother-son connection that I doubt few others on the planet have. Here’s how I knew that the connection was as strong as it was: as I am walking out of the ship outside onto the starboard side of Deck 5, I observe a group of about four people exiting a cab on the dock. I don’t have my glasses on, but I didn’t need them. Not only did Mom and I both show up to look for one another when we specifically said we would not, but we arrived at the EXACT same moment. Now you tell me that there’s no mother-son superconnection there.



















There she was, just as I somehow knew she always would be. I still can’t figure that out and it remains one of the many mysteries of the voyage.















That’s me waving goodbye to Mom and a few of the other parents as we were pulling out. But as we started moving, something odd began to happen. You may have wondered why this entry is titled “The Show Stopping Dance Number.” You may have thought I was referring to something that already happened, like something at the water puppet show, or something I forgot to write about. (What, me forget to write about something?) No, what happened as we were pulling out of the port was the Show Stopping Dance Number. Instead of letting me explain it, I’ll let the video speak for itself:



That was Mom. And that was Vietnam. Thrilling and exciting from beginning to end. It was one of my favorite countries on the trip so far, right up there with South Africa, which could not have been more different from Vietnam. It’s a country that I’d like to come back to. There’s still a bunch more I’ve yet to cover, but that will have to wait for another time. As for now, we’re off to sail down the Saigon River, maybe flip over a few small boats along the way, and in a few minutes, I’ll go inside for Global studies, for reasons unknown.















Thanks for coming, Mom! I love you!