No one can ever understand what you have lived unless you bring them to experience life with you-- in the place, with the people (and the weather) that form your everyday. In an effort to figure out what the hell I was doing in Cambodia, and well, because she looves to travel (it runs in the family), my mom --henceforth, referred to as "Mami" -- boarded a plane with too many layovers, across the Pacific to charming little Phnom Penh back in mid-April.
Mami arrived full of energy, surprising for one that's traveled over 20 hours to see a long-lost daughter. Having lost water in my flat the day before and in a fit of "my mother has to shower it's close to 40C outside and inside my flat," I booked us a "surprise welcome" room at a new little boutique hotel, found within the depths of chic organic restaurant on fashionable, touristy Street 240. The next day, well-bathed, rested and malaria-medicated, Mami and I enjoyed our inclusive breakfast complete with a passion-fruit juice by the Pavillion's pool. I knew then, I'd crossed worlds... Good-bye expatriate life, welcome life as a tourist.
PHNOM PENH
Of course one cannot plan everything. When Mami flew in, she flew right into the middle of Khmer New Year, which meant that virtually every person in Phnom Penh had fled to the countryside to celebrate the April New Year with their families. Emptied out of chaos, moto traffic, and well, decent open restaurants, Phnom Penh was the silent oasis often sought and rarely enjoyed by long-term expats. You could hear a pin-drop. So, what did we do? Hit all the big tourist sites: S-21 Genocide Museum, Choueng Ek Genocide Memorial, The Royal Palace, Silver Pagoda (which, contrary to most opinions I found quite beautiful and elaborate and not tacky at all), and Wat Phnom though Sambo the shoe-wearing elephant seemed to have gone off to the province on vacation as well. To top it off, Lucky, my tuk-tuk driver friend took us on a romantic ferry-crossing tour of the Tonle Sap, Mekong, and Bassac Rivers to watch sunset and eat local barbecued beef one evening.
SIEM REAP
After two sweltering days in my flat (Mami could only sit under the fan and sigh and wonder how the hell I had lived in a steaming-hot flat for a whole 8 months), we moved on and took the Mekong Express bus to Siem Reap in search of Angkorian Temples! Having booked a room at my favorite gay-friendly (and all-inclusive bed and breakfast w/ access to villa pools) establishment, we cooled off by the pool before heading to Angkor Wat for sunset. The next two days were spent with the ever-patient tuk tuk driver, Mr. Soerin, who on our final day asked us permission to go to a wedding, as I'm sure he was afraid we'd ask him to take us to the farthest possible Angkorian temple. What can I say? We love exploring. Mami was fascinated by each temple, while I mostly just became the photographer (this being my 4th time at the site) and nodded every time she commented on how superb the Naga or Apsara dancer statue would have looked, had their face not been clearly hacked off by thieves (or the National Museum). Other trip highlights included my mom being hit-on by nice Indian lawyer whom we shared a non-existent sunrise (front row w/ plastic chairs!) before it began to rain one morning, and climbing up to Kbal Spean, where there are lingas carved into rocks along a mountain stream.
HANOI(ing)
Having gotten all the Indiana Joanna crawling-over-temples out of our systems, we boarded an afternoon Vietnamese Airlines flight on Monday April 16th to Hanoi, in the north of Vietnam. After several mishaps, my mom more accurately christened this chaotic, in-your-face Asian city, HANNOYING.
Here's why:
Upon boarding our proper Airport Taxi (after having read Lonely Planet's "BEWARE OF AIRPORT TAXI SCAMS" decree) and traveling an hour or so into the city, our vehicle entered the Old Quarter, making its way down the narrow, crowded impossible streets of Hanoi in search for our *** Star hotel. Suddenly, the backdoor of the car opens up and a young man pops in, re-directing the taxi to "the sister hotel" and explaining most hastily that the room is booked and everything would be sorted at the sister hotel. You know when you get the feeling that something is wrong, but you react ever too slowly. Here... was... that... moment. We are then taken to the dilapidated backpacker-ish "sister hotel" which I mentally note is clearly lacking of an inclusive breakfast buffet table, and as we unpack our things and I calmly tell myself, "Okay, I've slept in worse. At least this will be cheaper and save my mom a few bucks." Then, my mom asks about the train and the set of Halong Bay tour tickets supposed to be delivered to our hotel. AHA! The Scammers panic and their faces drop into a long OH. We repack our things (yes, I had already started to wash a well-worn tee-shirt) and the guy calls a taxi that drops us back at our original hotel. "We are so sorry...my friend help you..." Yeah right. I refused to pay for the taxi after we were dropped off. Grrrr. It happens all the time to unsuspecting tourists. We suspected, but a tad bit too late. The Vietnamese took us for a ride, literally, but in end it all worked out, just not without leaving us with a bitter taste for Vietnamese scams. So, then we went for a walk to get ice cream and ran into the cathedral...
Hanoi itself is big and crowded and honestly, not one of my favorite cities. There's a pretty lake at the center around which lovers hold hands and walk, and by which we ate lots of ice cream and forgot about the scam(s). At night, a small pagoda in the middle of the lake lights up and it's rather pleasant to look out at. Several streets are lined with beautiful big French colonial buildings around the city and for one reason or another, as in Cambodia, these buildings find themselves painted in light yellow. We saw Ho Chi Minh's (Uncle Ho) mausoleum from the outside (it was closed) and explored the temple of literature where ancient scholars earned doctorate degrees. The"Hilton Hanoi"-- where American war prisoners spent months in captivity, including John Mc Cain was another must-stop, if only to historically satisfy our naturalized American citizenship. The highlight of the trip by far was the "water puppet show", in which puppets with names like "Happy Boy", carved from coconuts and wood float perform over a small pool of water. Yes, the entire time I thought there were people underwater moving the puppets and breathing through thick straws. Apparently, that's not how it works...
HALONG BAY
Both my mom and I really wanted to tour Halong Bay, a UNESCO World Heritage Site and one of the new Seven Wonders of the world in the Gulf of Tonkin. We had pre-booked a tour on the rustic, but quaint miniature cruise ship, the "Jewel of the Bay" and upon arrival at the Bay, we boarded the ship with six other twenty-something year old English Teachers and two young Danish engineers. Mami was the ship's most uuh, mature visitor, yet she blended right in as we did some cave exploring (note: I found some penguins living in the caves), kayaking, swimming (the water was really cold and after she went in, of course I had to too), and sight-seeing around the islets. For the record, we are both terrible kayakers and thus on our return trip from a beach island to the ship, we had to share kayaks with the Danish, given their manly physique, not to mention ability to steer a kayak. When enticed by our Vietnamese Guides and deck-hands to sing Kareoke, Mami scrolled through and found some ABBA (this was after only one glass of wine). That's more singing in public than I have ever done. I'm so proud. Over all we relaxed and took in some stunning views of the sea-mountains. Swimming in emerald water and watching the sun set over the bay lent for beautiful top-vacation moment come true. All we needed were singing Little Mermaid turtles, and the scene would have been complete. Luckily, I found a trash-can penguin hiding in a cave instead...
From Halong Bay we moved on north by night-train to Sapa, a town near the Chinese-Vietnamese border. Our goal was to do some hiking, visit ethnic villages, and really take in the more post-cardish rice-terraced mountainous Asia. What we really took in was a lot of cold rain. I was so, so, so cold. This was the equivalent to bloody Chicago rainy springs cold, with an added touch of misty mountains. Nevertheless, the views were gorgeous. Before long however, Mami and I had each hopped onto the back of a motorcycle and woven our way up into the mist, in search of Silver Waterfall. There (as seen below), I made a very drunken Vietnamese man, very happy. He even offered to buy me a corn husk. How do you say, "THANKS, but no thanks" in Vietnamese?
Having outfitted ourselves with really cheap (but real) gortex North Face jackets, we joined our Hmong tribe guide the next day-- a young 20 year old, pregnant girl-- and three other Hmong girls that would lead us to the valley where the Black Hmong, Flower Hmong and other "ethnic villages" lay. Our four-hour hike was plenty of time to grow close to these beautiful fresh-faced girls. We found out three of them were pregnant (all were under 24 years of age) and any one of them would share their views on the Vietnamese-exploitation of Sapa as a center for tourism. It was funny to watch them hike in their skirts and plastic sandals, carrying incredibly heavy wicker baskets on their backs, unencumbered by the muddy slopes and flooded terraces (as a matter of fact, with my proper trekking shoes, I was the one that slipped more than once), holding such strong convictions yet resigned to the idea that tourism was the only way for them to gain some sort of decent income. The one woman I became friends with was slightly older and had three older, high-school aged sons. We had originally met the day before, when she had attempted to sell me a thin silver bracelet, but at the crucial moment when she cleared her throat and was about to say to me "Please buy from me," she had cracked up and burst out laughing, which of course made me laugh and joke around with her, thus sealing the bonds for a genuine immediate friendship. (Yes, I did eventually buy a bracelet from her because I wanted to and received a more meaningful parting cloth friendship bracelet as a gift from her as well).
Throughout our walk, we ran into more gorgeous views, a dying pregnant horse, various ethnic women selling lots of crafts, our train travel companions (more on them later), and one young 22 year old Danish boy that had traded the European life for the village life, having wed and impregnated a young Hmong girl and decided to live life as farm help to his father-in-law. (Strange, but to each his own.) Over the next day or two we enjoyed warm pain au chocolate and coffee after our cold outings, made friends with a French Wisconsin-Madison Professor and artist, and visited the Flower Hmong on market day near the Chinese border.
That night we shared the night train ride back to Hanoi with the same newly wed couple we had shared our compartment with on our way to Sapa. The two were inseparable, and it was hilarious to watch him answer her every need as she'd kindly whine, "Chamoi!!!" (like the Mexican spicy sugary candy). Back in Hanoi, we waved goodbye and found ourselves a 5am taxi that could take us to the world's worst airport, where we waited hours (we couldn't change our flight, another Hanoi-ing instance) for our flight to take off for Da Nang. For five hours we lived off of dried papaya, a snickers bar, two mango juices, and my old copy of Orson Wells'
1984. The flight was 45 minutes.
HOI AN
After landing and eventually picking up our "Priority" red-tagged bags, we drove off along the coast through Da Nang to Hoi An. Da Nang served as a former US Military Base during the Vietnam (or "American") War, but today the coast lining the way to Hoi An serves as prime real estate for luxury condominiums, hotel resorts and golf courses of the Hilton Resorts variety. The Americans clearly wanted to comeback. They've also constructed luxury golf courses, which seem totally out of place, but given a few years time, will undoubtedly put Hoi An on more Apple Vacations getaway maps.
Hoi An is literally where one goes in search of tailored clothes, beach time, culture, and good food. For SE Asia expats (and their kids), it's the perfect town to cycle around at night and take in some fresh air as well as a few glasses of wine. In between our dress-fitting in small tailor shops and trying out local dishes (fried wontons w/ shrimp!!!), we visited old historical houses (Hoi An is also UNESCO protected) and even saw the house and met the grandson of an important government official to dear Uncle Ho'. One of our best meals by far was at a whole-in-the wall restaurant, "Mes Amies," where Mr. Kim served us two of his five-course menus of traditional veggie and seafood (he cooks whatever he wants that day and you eat it), while two Czech guys (sharing one meal) simply stared at us, probably wondering how in the world two little Latin girls could intake all that food. Small bites?
One day when we were not eating, Mami and I decided to go to the beach. On this particularly sunny day, I happened to step on a broken railing covering a square drain on my way to the beach. The railing was broken. Foot went through, knee to the ground, blooooood everywhere (though contained to the foot area). Brilliant. I'm about to step into the salty ocean and instead I've injured my foot, and the next thing I know I have three male hotel concierge guys kneeling around my left foot, using a cotton swab and scissors as they pour antiseptic and wipe away the blood. My heroes! The sea-salt did the rest, and for the rest of the afternoon I tied and retied my bikini between cursing the thing and diving into huge waves with my googles (thank you contacts). So for days on end (or well, 3 days) Mami and I shopped, ate, and beached, made friends with the lady beach-sellers and behaved like 10 year olds jumping waves.
PHNOM PENH
Back in the PP, Mami met all my friends and Yoshi, took a cooking class and made Fish Amok (yes I took it too evidence below**), and fell in love with the Elephant Bar the Raffles Hotel. She survived flooding in the Penh, thanks to Tim; enjoyed heavenly spa treatments and some real BBQ beef at Sovanna before flying back to the States (with all my pairs of Cambodian Beautiful Shoes in tow). In the end, I gave my mom an A++ for making the effort to fly out and visit me, for inviting me to Vietnam, aaaand for being a good sport and trying everything (including Snowies bar)!
**Evidence I cooked:
