'Nam Part Deux

A little break in the action, so buckle up for a little flavah ...

My last night in Hanoi was spent at Hua So, a restaurant operated by disadvantaged Vietnamese youth. There is a local non-profit organization that gives these young folks top notch training with the hopes that they will be able to get excited about a profession and go out and do something with their lives and for their large families from the villages outside town. Needless to say, it wasn't about the food. The restaurant was located in some double secret back alley that took me ages to find, but was well worth the hunt. It was an outdoor rest. that had all the charm and ambience of colonial Vietnam. Felt like I was living "The Quiet American".

I flew into Da Nang and had a 45 minute ride into the small town of Hoi An. This region has a ton of war-related history as it served as one of the larger bases during both the American (first landing area back in '66) and French Wars. Took a 2 hour walk about the old town section of Hoi An, which is incredibly quaint and chill. Cobblestone streets that are closed to traffic. The area is a haven for artists, so there are galleries and workshops in addition to about 100+ tailor shops that can make anything you want in less than a day for prices that you would be lucky to find at WalMart. There is also a huge market that is just a carnival for the senses. Gets crackin well before dawn and sells the most fresh (everything). The entire town runs along the Hoi An River, along which you will find tons of farmers growing sweet potato, rice, radish, you name it. It has a heavy Chinese i! nfluence since it was they who originally came to teach the Viet. here how to trade.

On the way to the hotel, I stopped at lantern factory -- factory being the operative term here. It was really a family farm home amid the paddies with a slew of workers in the garage cranking out about 1000 lanterns a day - from scratch. After talking to the family and learning about their lives, they allowed me to make my own lantern. I'll keep my day job, if I still have it when I get back, that is.

I got to the hotel (in the beach town of Cam An) pretty early and was greeted by what I believe were the remnants of a class 4 typhoon that had hit the Philipines pretty damn hard. I saw waves and wind the likes of which Florida sees every year. All I could do was laugh. Luckily, the hotel was really nice and had enough to keep me busy for the first 2 days. The staff were all very inquisitive, as was I. One of the dudes at the pool started to sing "Hotel California" every time I walked by. He'd be a hit at the karaoke joints back home. Memo to self: fire travel agent upon return to US. How he could suggest a trip to the most beautiful beach in 'nam during what the locals call the "rainy season" is beyond me. He's off the Mehra payroll. What a tease to be there and not be able to chill on the beach for hours at a stretch with cold beers.

The 3rd and final day in the Central Region carried with it several experiences which I will never forget. It started with a one-on-one cooking class which entailed an early morning trip to the market(which I mentioned earlier) with the chef after which I learned how to make 5 Vietnamese dishes (regional specialities), all of which fit my 20 minutes or less attention span threshold.

During lunch, one of the waitresses came over asked me the usual questions and came back 5 minutes later discreetly writing her phone number on my hand asking me out for dinner and drinks later that night. Dong is her name (no, not *the* Donger, Lori). So, I meet her at the village post office in the pouring rain and she drives up on her moped. Says she wants to introduce me to her family and hopes that I am not "afraid". It was a treat to finally get to ride one of the crazy mopeds and better yet as a passenger. It was an even bigger treat to get to meet a local family. The scenery on the ride over to their house was out of a dream. Pitch dark; clandestine vibe; wind and rain thrasing about your face. We arrived at her village and her family greeted me with huge smiles, some tea, but not one lick on English. The granny was the best! Exactly what you would imagine a 95-year old Asian gr! anny to look like. A very modest house fronted by a small retail counter with cigarettes, soda and the like.

After her family laughed at me for an hour or so, we went out to dinner in the old town with her brother and friend to a cool backpacker joint called Before and After. Met some folks from back home and enjoyed a few Thanksgiving cocktails. Really lucked out with this specific night as it was the one night of the lunar calendar month that they shut down all lights in the streets and only super colorful silk lanterns light the tight, labyrinth-like roads. It's a big festival around the full moon, I believe. Later, everyone goes to the riverside and lays their lanterns into the water which makes for a totally awesome nightime vibe and a cool ride home. On the way back to the hotel, Dong says, "you come back next year and me wedding you". I told her of the rigorous Sniko-Screening Process. She says, "me love you lonnng time, mistah neck". Ok, I made that last line up, but I had to use it somewhere (Ore! n, this place is just ripe for material, btw, if SF ever runs dry).

Earlier that day, around sunset, I rode My Darling for 5 minutes. My Darling, you sickos, is a 33-year old, 5 ton female Elephant who roams the grounds at the beach hotel. Really mellow animal. Just insane to see one of those bad boys up close and personal. The size of her dumps would obliterate a small town.

I arrived in humid 33 degree C Saigon early this morning and have seen most of the major sites here already. The war-related stuff I've seen is something that will take me a long time to digest and regurgitate. Heavy. Am meeting up with a bunch of local people (friends of nyc friends) for dinner tonight. Heading down to the Mekong Delta tomorrow morning for a few days, which will be a welcome respite from the hustle bustle of Saigon.