My Sin, My Soul

I met Jacynthe (zha-saint) at a travel agency in Hanoi. Her two friends were not arriving from Montreal until later that evening, so she joined Tom, Jade, and me for some beer hoi. We were both looking to take a three day trip east of Hanoi to Halong Bay and agreed to book together to try and get a deal. I was a bit nervous how this was going to turn out, traveling with three girls, two of which I had not met.

In northeast Vietnam in the Gulf of Tonkin, Halong Bay consists of over 3000 islands, many no larger than a few acres. The trip consisted of a day and a night on a junk boat cruising throught the islands followed by a day and night on Cat Ba island, the only inhabited island in Halong Bay, half of which is a National park. Although Cat Ba is the only inhabited island, there are several floating communities throughout the bay, of predominately fishermen I suppose. Houses are built individually on their own floating support system, but there will be 10, 20, 30 platforms tied together for support. It makes for floating neighborhoods, and like any neighborhood, there are lots of dogs, which is kind of strange. It must be some kind of life.




Junk boats in Halong Bay










As far as my French-Canadian friends are concerned, they proved to be quite an enjoyable traveling party, and for three days I was the baddest mo-fo on the planet in the eyes of every Vietnamese man we passed on the streets. If I thought I attracted attention as a white male in Vietnam, that attention increased ten-fold when walking with three tall, beautiful white women. It wasn't focused on me of course, but more than one Vietnamese man gave me a smirk and a nod after eyeing my lady friends. Because we booked the trip together and we were four, it followed that one of them had to bunk up with me; they told me later that they drew straws to determine which one that was. I assume they meant to determine which one got to sleep with me, but I could be wrong. Either way, I took the fact that they admitted as much to mean they were pleased with the result of my company. My only regret is that I did not get the opportunity to travel with them longer. They had decided to stay an extra night on Cat Ba and I had to catch a westbound train in Hanoi. Anyhow, they were traveling in the direction from which I had come; I wonder how they're making out.



On Cat Ba Island with Laurence, Sarah, and Jacynthe











Upon arriving back in Hanoi from Halong Bay, I had to catch an overnight train to Sapa, in the northwest corner of Vietnam. Sapa was created in 1922 as a French hill station, but it is surrounded by ethnic hill-tribes who have been living there for thousands of years. I signed on for a two day "trek," which really just consisted of two, day-long hikes through some of the hill-tribe villages. It was fascinating and educational to see how these people lived, and it was one of the most beautiful landscapes I have ever witnessed. It is a mountainous region, overcome by a blanket of mist in the mornings, with terraced rice paddies in the hillsides as far as the eye can see. I have not seen anything like it in my life.





Terraced rice paddies in Sapa













Children from the Black Hmong hill-tribe










From Sapa I needed to head back to Hanoi to catch a flight to Bangkok. This is a trip where you don't want to do too much planning. You want to be flexible to let your mood and current location determine the next. But when it comes to traveling by air, it is of course necessary to plan ahead. I booked my flight to Bangkok several weeks earlier in Nha Trang, trying to estimate how long I might spend at each location. It's not an easy task when you're trying to fly by the seat of your pants. But I must say, I planned it just short of perfectly. As I booked it, after Sapa I had one day and night in Hanoi before flying out. Perfect would have been flying out one day earlier, the same day I returned from Sapa, because I really didn't want to spend another night in Hanoi, especially by myself without Tom and Jade. That's how anxious I was to leave north Vietnam. But that last night in Hanoi turned out to be alright, because there were a few redeeming moments.

I went to my regular pre-dinner beer hoi joint - even though it was post-dinner - and grabbed a stool. It turns out there's a direct correlation between my selection of beer hoi joints and American bars: the more space, the more intimate, the better. So even though there were only a few people there when I arrived, and as I was still trying to discern the protocol for sidewalk beer hoi etiquette, I sat on a stool close to the curb, in front of the other patrons. Not a minute had passed before the lady running the place patted me on the back and directed me to an open seat between her and the gentleman with whom she was speaking. She spoke very little English but knew my face at this point, so it's debatable whether I was just blocking her view or whether she was inviting me to be a part of the group. I would like to believe the latter. So I joined and sat between them as a volley of Vietnamese dialogue passed over, around, and through me. I of course didn't understand a lick of it, but I was happy to be in the mix.

Towards the end of the evening a young man sat next to me and eventually asked me where I was from. I don't know how I answered the question that time - it varies between America, the United States, the U.S., and the States. In any event, he proceeded to ask me what I thought of Vietnam. I don't know what it was about the way he asked it, but it came across as a loaded question. So I answered judiciously:

"I love Vietnam, I've had a great time here."
"But as an American, what do you think of Vietnamese people?"

My intuition was correct; if the question had been any more loaded I would have blown up just from hearing it. I of course gave a diplomatic answer about how nice the Vietnamese were. That's all I said...I promise...before he follows with:

"Because we forget about the war. We don't think of the past, we think about the future."

It was interesting that he initiated it and said that (and for the record he was 26), but I didn't want to pursue it - not here - so I left it at that. We chatted a little bit more and talked about his studies at the University (engineering I think). He told me about the learning center where Vietnamese girls take English classes, and that Vietnamese learning English want the American accent as opposed to the British one. I had not yet heard this but confirmed it later, and it appears that the desire is a direct result of Hollywood.

"It is a shame I didn't meet you earlier," he knew it was my last night in Vietnam. "I would have taken you to the center to teach." I couldn't help but agree. That would have been an experience, it was a shame.

I had a great time in Vietnam and was surprised with what I discovered. But it is a country with a split personality, and because I ended my tenure in the least hospitable of the two I was happy to leave. On the bus from Dalat to Nha Trang a few weeks prior, a British girl had asked me what I thought of the Vietnamese people. I believe it is, for the most part, a bullshit question when you're on the tourist track. On the one hand you have people who are nice to you in an effort to get your money, and on the other you have people who are trying to fuck you in the same effort. I admit, my opinion could very well be tainted because I ended my trip in the north, but I think back on that girl's question, and right now, my answer is "not much." It seems harsh and I feel awful admitting as much, but I had had it with people trying to take advantage of me. You have to bargain for everything in Vietnam, and vendors would increase their prices four-fold for Westerners. I was sick of having to haggle for a bottle of water or a can of coke. Every friggin' time. Would I answer the question the same way had I never visited Hanoi? I don't know...perhaps not.

Now I promise you, I'm trying and trying to put this into perspective. Are there unscrupulous American vendors who try to take advantage of foreigners? Sure. Are there areas of the States that can be classified as inhospitable to foreigners? You bet. What do you think of the American people? An impossible question to answer, no?

But all I have is what I experienced, and I don't trust 'em, and I was happy to be going.