Erroneous Egg

A few days ago, I went strolling off down the street to my favourite com binh dan.  The ladies there know me now and welcome me in with smiles and hand gestures.  I picked out two dishes from the cart and went inside and sat down.
About two thirds of the way through my lunch an old lady walks in and starts looking around for somewhere to sit.  Me being the only westerner in the shop, my table was empty and all the others were full.  She looked at me and I motioned for her to sit with me, so she did.
This is when the weirdness began.  She immediately starts talking to me, flat out, in Vietnamese.  I look blankly at her but she continues.  After she had finished saying whatever it was she needed to tell me, she began wiping down the table with a napkin in an irritated fashion.  Then she spotted my smart phone sitting on the table next to me.
She begins leaning in and squinting while pointing at it abruptly.  I open the case and show her it is a phone, then put it back down.  This seemed to only make things worse as she began another tirade of Vietnamese while gesticulating wildly at the phone and into the air.  I had absolutely no idea what was going on and a local man seated behind her at a table is watching and laughing.
When I return my gaze to her, she pokes out her top false teeth at me and wiggles them, sucks them back in and continues to talk and gesticulate.  Enough awkward weirdness for one day; I quickly eat the rest of my food, pay and leave.

Chilling in the lounge room

In the evening, myself and my housemates had planned to go back to the bia hoi place in the alley for some cheap beer and interaction with the locals who frequent the place; but first it was off to the ban xeo shop for dinner.  Ban xeo is a fried rice crepe/pancake with prawns, pork, bean sprouts and egg inside.  You break it apart with chopsticks, put it in a rice paper roll with mint, basil, cucumber, lettuce and various other herbs, roll it up then dip it in a supremely delicious fish sauce.

Ban Xeo

Om nom nom

Yuko's pro ban xeo skills

Very delicious and filling and all for a paltry $1.75.  We return home to drop off our scooters and walk to the bia hoi place.  Daniel, our other housemate has already been there for several hours at this point and is well on his bia hoi journey.
Yuko walked off to find a stationary shop before coming to join us, so it was us three guys sitting together with the locals.

Alex and Dan

It wasn't long before the inebriated groups of locals sitting around us began attempted to talk to us, with a little bit of English, Vietnamese and body language.  The local people are so generous if not a bit cheeky.  We were given tiny roast quails to eat for free as well as peanuts.
One man sitting next to me managed to convey to me through body language that in Vietnam, apparently peanut husks are ground up into powder and used in hamburgers.  I'm not sure if he meant the bun or the patty though.
A short while later, one of the locals handed each of us one third of a century egg.  I had seen these before from my time living in Taiwan but I never wanted to try one.  They do not look at all appetising, however since they had given us this food for free and were all staring at us, we pretty much had to eat it.

an example of some century eggs

I peeled the shell away from my third of egg and put the whole piece in my mouth.  It tasted like a regular egg, except the egg flavour is amplified about ten times and it was really salty.  These two things were not too bad; the killer however was the revolting gelatinous texture of the whole thing.  It made me almost gag, but I steeled myself and swallowed it whole.
My face must have revealed my thoughts because they all started laughing and asking me "good? good?"
Blergh, never again.  It sat like a stone in my stomach for hours and made me feel slightly queasy.  Not to worry, beer fixes everything.
Yuko arrived shortly after and being the only female sitting in the alley, all eyes turned to her, as well as the questions.  "What your name?" "Where you from?" "How old?"
We stayed for a little bit longer then went back home for the night.  In hindsight it was a really interesting and funny experience.

It is the little things such as these that create memories that will last.

Ambient Aesthetics

The more I walk around the main street Le Van Sy and through the meandering back alleys, the more I notice the unusual attractiveness of the area.  There is a rugged charm about the way this area of Saigon looks; there is texture and colour, a myriad of sounds and smells everywhere, a sensory bombardment to an extent.
The walls of the alley ways alone are interesting enough with their aged paint, sprayed stencils, doorways, gates and other alley ways branching off.

I stepped onto the busy road, in amongst the swarming scooters.  It is the only way to cross a road in Saigon; you simply have to step into the traffic while watching the oncoming lane and let the scooter riders adapt and ride around you.
Once on the other side I spotted a large com binh dan eatery in a wide alley.  These are very cheap and delicious places that mainly the locals eat at.  There is a buffet in a cart at the front where you choose one or two things that you want from an assortment of strange and sometimes unidentifiable dishes.
The place was packed, so one of the owners directed me to a spare seat at a table with two Vietnamese women and a child.  It was like an space alien sat down beside them. They looked at each other wide eyed and then at me, fleetingly, out the corner of their eyes while grinning.  The little girl was a different story.  She stared at me the whole time with a confused and what appeared to be a slightly scared look on her face.  She stared at me the whole time I ate; Even when he mother was spoon feeding her rice and fish, she kept her eyes on me.  It was actually pretty funny.

Com Binh Dan food.  Pork chop, chicken leg, rice, vegetables and soup. $1.75

While walking back from lunch, I noticed an electrician on a ladder working on some wiring.  How this man knew what he was doing is beyond me considering the absolute jumbled mess of cables going everywhere.

Spaghetti wires

I am back now, as we have just had power restored from a two hour blackout.  It was pretty hot so I went out walking around to cool off as it seemed to be cooler outside.  While out on my little jaunt, I received a wide range of strange looks from many people; I also took some photos :

After all that walking and heat, I think it calls for some more Bia Hoi tonight with the friendly drunken locals who seem to always be there.  I hope Mr.Miyagi is there again.  There is one man in particular who always seems to be quite hammered and all he can say in English is "Where are you from?!".  It is great, they're such characters.

Bia Hoi in the alley

I have to say, I really quite like Saigon and all its little nuances.  Everywhere you go there seems to be something new to discover.  Be it little food carts, tiny shops, curious friendly locals, restaurants, cafes etc.  Getting about on foot is something that I have grown to enjoy here, as it gives you a much more personal experience with everything, as opposed to whizzing by on a scooter and focusing on not colliding with everyone else.

Bargain Beer

Yesterday Alex and I rode to a strange cafe near our house.  He saw it in a magazine and thought it warranted checking out.  It is an upside down themed cafe... I'll let the pictures do the talking.

I had a Vietnamese coffee.  It was spectacularly good.  It came to the table sitting in it's own little drip filter which sat on top of the cup and sloooooowly permeated through.  Once it had all dripped through, I tipped it into a tall glass with ice and added fresh milk.  Probably the best coffee I've ever had.

Later that night we went out for some noodle soup. On the walk back home, I noticed a sign I had seen a few times, close by to our house.  "Bia hơi"
I had read about this before coming to Vietnam.  It is a beer that is brewed daily and has no preservatives or any other nasty stuff in it.  Oh, and it is stupidly cheap.  Alex and I were seated on some small plastic chairs with a whole group of locals (one of whom looked a lot like Mr.Miyagi) and our Bia Hoi was brought to us.
It came in a large plastic bottle, probably about 3/4 of a litre and man it was nice.  Very light, crisp and refreshing.  I think we both got about 3 mugs each out of the bottle and it cost us.... drum roll..... ~63 cents.
It was a great experience; The Vietnamese locals around here are so genuine and friendly.  Everyone we sat with clinked glasses with us and said cheers, or Yo! in Vietnamese.  Very cool.

After drinking beer, we headed off to a place called Bui Vien.  It is the mega tourist / backpacker strip in the city centre.  There are many many pubs, bars, restaurants, travel agents, hotels, street vendors everywhere here.  There were some really impressive local artists who have shops here, showing off all their paintings. We wandered through a few of them and in one of them was super friendly chair cat.

After having some expensive cocktails, it was home time.  This afternoon we're going back to watch a football (soccer) match in an Australian bar there.  That will be a first for me.  We're also going to check out the Ben Thanh market, which is supposed to be super big and interesting.

 

A short post today, but more to come!

Scooter Skulking

Not being able to resist, I went to another new shop, looking for the ultimate pho in my immediate area.  This one was easily the best one yet.  Big bowl, nice strong flavour, lots of herbs to add if one so desires.

Delicious, pho sho!

The one thing that oddly struck me was the price of this particular bowl of pho.  When I first visited this region of Asia I found that initially I was really pleased with how cheap things are compared to back home.  Then something I call "The Stingy Gene" gets activated.  You become aware of the local prices and roughly what should cost what; What is a rip off, what is a good deal etc.
This bowl was 40,000 Dong.  All the others I have had, have been between 25,000 and 30,000.  This was outrageous!  How can it be 40,000??  The gall!  The nerve!
40,000 Dong is only ~$2 USD.  Sometimes you have to stop and slap yourself and deactivate the stingy gene.  I had an awesome meal for $2.  Sure, maybe a local might think that is on the dearer side and fair enough... but for me?  Nope.  Stupid stingy gene, I shall thwart thee!

So I walk home, satisfied, through the quaint little back alleys and narrow streets to my share house.

After sitting in my room for a while, internetting, I decide it is beer time.  I head downstairs and I hear someone else down there on the ground floor.  Turns out it is Alex, our German housemate, returned from Bali!  We introduce ourselves and chat for a bit.  Turns out he is going on a beer run as well, so we join forces and buy six Saigon Red beers from the shop next door to our building.
We sit and chat for about an hour, drinking beer.  We end up buying four more beers and then it is bed time.  Luckily, before we finished up, he showed me how to activate the data network on my smart phone here, so I can use the Internet, GPS etc, which turns out to be vitally handy the next day.

So in the afternoon, the next day, I get a moto ride to Bui Vien with a local so I can go to Chi's Cafe and sort out a long term scooter rental.  I certainly need to be able to get about this place.
I get to Chi's Cafe and sort it all out, no problems at all.  My new steed awaits me -

Le Scooter

After figuring out how to get home, I set off in the throng off bees that is Saigon traffic.  Everything is going well... until I get totally lost.  Here is where I am very fortunate that Alex helped me set up the Internet on my phone.  Without GPS and maps, I would have been in a serious pickle.  I pull over and start using my phone to find my way back.  Just as I finish, I flip the cover closed and lower my phone towards my pocket, JUST in time to avoid two thieves on their own scooter who come zipping right by me in an obvious attempt to snatch it.  I sat there for a minute absorbing what just happened and how close I came to losing my phone and my only way home.  Much more stringent caution is needed in the future.
I head off a little bit shaken after that event and backtrack to the right way home.  All the while I am thinking about what Chi said to me when I was organising the bike rental.

"Sometimes the police might stop you to check your license.  Because you don't have one, there could be a big fine... maybe 2,000,000 dong.  But usually you can just bribe them about 200,000 dong and they will let you go."

So what happens next?  I stop at a red light, at the very front of a huge pack of scooters.  To my right on a traffic island are 5 police standing there, all staring at me.  Wonderful.  I gritted my teeth, didn't look at them and maintained a cool outward appearance.  One steps out on to the road in front of me... pauses but then continues out into the middle of the road where he proceeds to signal for us all to start driving.
Woohoo!  Got away with that one.

So I eventually get home, park my scooter inside on the bottom floor and call it a day.  Cheers Vietnam, you great big crazy, you.



 

Treasure to Trauma

Today I found a bag of money under my bed.  No, really.  Check it out.

Booty

It turned out to be about $14 USD.  Winner winner, chicken dinner.  It belongs to Ryan who had the room before me and he had forgotten all about it.  I'm guessing it is poker money due to all the small note denominations.

After a little bit of cleaning, I can't help but hear a child screaming non stop down the bottom of the building.  I peer over the balcony and see her, sitting on a scooter, screaming for some strange and unknown reason.  It is now I notice that the two shops on either side of our building are open and have tables out with people eating noodle soup.  PHO TIME!
I scurry downstairs like a crazy person and burst out the door, turn to my left and greet the man there with a friendly hello.  Nope, they're out of food.  I turn to the right and ask the lady, making chopstick to mouth actions and saying "pho??" ... Nope, they're out too.  Unimpressed.
I did however learn that a seemingly universal sign for being empty or out of something in Vietnam is twisting your hand.  Imagine you have your hand on a door knob and are twisting it back and forth.  That is it.  I thought to myself, why the heck does that mean "empty" or "no more"?  Then it hit me... maybe it is symbolising an empty cup or glass!

I retreat back upstairs and continue to clean the bathroom and floors.  Afterwards I am stupidly hungry so I embark on yet another food adventure.  I start walking towards downtown and eventually find some strange shop that sells noodle soup with fish cakes in it.  Very nice!
I continue my route down town and start looking around.  Remembering that the I saw the "War Remnants Museum" on google maps in this area, I head on over in that direction.
It isn't hard to miss considering the military hardware in the courtyard outside the building.  Seventy-five cents to get in and it turned out to be some of the best, yet worst seventy-five cents I've spent.
The American military hardware on display outside is unquestionably impressive to see.  Tourists are everywhere having photos of themselves taken against the various machines.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In hindsight, I can't help but think that seeing all of this equipment prior to entering the building was sort of setting the stage to show you how it was used and the utterly horrific devastation it wrought.

Dead Mangroves

A large photograph of dead mangroves, killed by the various chemicals sprayed by the United States, greets you at the side of the building.  When I saw this, I knew I was going to be in for something disturbing inside.

I stopped taking photographs at this point because the content of the museum was truly horrific.  Being mostly ignorant as to what went on in the Vietnam war (or the American war as the locals call it), it was like a punch in the face.  I had no idea as to the inhumane and depraved things that were perpetrated in that conflict.  It was staggering and quite upsetting.
Before I could finish going through the 3rd floor, a bell rang and the building was closing.  I didn't mind.  That was more than enough and certainly the best and worst seventy-five cents I've spent.

I start walking home and the sky opens up, teeming with rain.  At first I am worried that I will get drenched, but quickly remember a great quote from Bob Marley :

"Some people feel the rain. Others just get wet."

 I ignore the rain and continue walking home, slowly, drenched to the skin.  I receive giggles from some locals who are all hiding under cover and wearing rain coats.

Overall, a good day, despite the experience at the museum.  You learn new things everyday.

Phinding Pho

Tonight is my second night in my new share house.
The room mates are great and friendly and the house is in a really good location.  There is a supermarket about 50 metres away, numerous tiny local restaurants and bars in the street, the river is just in front of the supermarket too.

River

Locals Eating Street Food at Night

It is far enough away from the heavily tourist oriented areas of district one but also close enough if one wanted to go out at night.

Watching Close Encounters of the Third Kind

I have been having more food adventures.  Since I don't speak or read a word of Vietnamese, it has all come down to just walking into places or just approaching street vendors and making do with pointing and body language.  The first night here, I walked to a small street vendor near the supermarket, looked around at what another couple were eating, pointed at that and nodded.
I was brought out a plate of lettuce, mint, basil and some other unknown green things and then soon after a plate of 6 strange tart looking things.  Some had a prawn in the middle, some had squid and the others I have no idea.  So apparently you wrap the tarts up in lettuce leaves with the herbs and dip them in strange sauces served in beer mugs with spoons.  The prawns having their shells on was a surprise but also a welcome addition of texture.
Not bad!

The next day, I decided that I had to find somewhere selling Pho.  Being the national dish, one would think this would be an easy task.  I walked into a number of different places which had the word pho written on their signage.  I received mostly blank stares from toothless old ladies, despite my best efforts.  I walked along the river for a while looking at stores, until (I kid you not) I decided to give up and turn around.  I was right in front of a Pho shop at this time and I didn't even realise.
I pointed at the massive vat of the stuff simmering away but the young man serving people seemed daunted by interacting with me.  Then I hear "WAT U WAN?" from behind me.
A Vietnamese man, standing about 4 feet tall, was at the shop.  I said "Pho"
He springs to action and makes sure I get what I am looking for by talking to the shop owner.  Turns out he speaks English very well and has been living in the United States for 24 years working as an ATM technician.
A similar thing happened to me when I eating in a small place near my old hotel when the owner came to me speaking fluent English and had been living in the United States for 19 years working for the Department of Defence.  Random.

My Pho arrives and it is very good.  Not the best I've had, but still good.  Mission accomplished.

The next day, I grow hungry and decide I need more food adventures.  This time I cross the river and find a largish shop that was recommended by Ryan (at least I think it was the one).  Upon entering, 3 young girls who work there and one guy all call out "HELLOOOO!" "HOW ARE YOUU" "WAT U NAM?"
"Michael" ... "Like Michael Jackson"
"OOOOHHHHH!"
You had to be there, it was hilarious.  The three girls just stare at me smiling, even when I look back at them, they don't look away.  Never experienced that before! 
I am given a menu, entirely in Vietnamese.  I glance over the pictures and start pointing.  Trying to find out if a certain dish is chicken, I tuck my hands under my sides, flap my arms, bob my head back and forth and say "BOOK BOOK BOOK?"
The laughter this caused was so funny that even I lost it and cracked up.  I am eventually served the chicken I asked for and it was soooo good.  I sneak a photo of the girls while I am eating.

The Three Chicken Chicks

I am finding that my initial apprehension in trying to interact with locals is dwindling.  Good times.

Ho Chi Minh Hustle

Leaving my Cambodian hotel, I boarded the mini bus that would take me to the mother ship for my journey to Vietnam.  I was the first to be picked up and thus had to endure the waiting at various other hotels for the many disorganised and oblivious travellers, being picked up too.
After arriving at the bus station, we all boarded the big bus for the four hour leg to Phnom Penh.  It was a very uneventful trip with a generic stop for toilets and food.
Arriving at the Sorya central bus station in Phnom Penh, I was hovering around the bus waiting for my suitcase to get unloaded.  It didn't.  I look around in a panic for someone to ask and as I do this the bus starts up and begins to reverse out of the station.  I grab a nearby man by the arm and point at the bus saying "my bag my bag!".  He chuckles and puts his hands up with "don't worry" vibes and takes me with him as we follow the bus to another parking spot... where it was only moving to.
Once in possession of my suitcase, I am told to go and wait under cover near the ticket booth.  I go to the toilets and find that urinal cakes have been replaced with chunks of pineapple... and it seems to work pretty well!  No smell at all.
I spend what seems like an excessive amount of time waiting before deciding to go to the ticket booth and ask about my bus.  The lady points to the bus that I got my case out of.  Hmmm.  I shuffle back over to it and the same guy that took my case out for me says "Ho Chi Minh?" .... "yes" I reply sheepishly and he puts my bag back in for me.
I climb on board and take my seat.  It could have been really good timing or the bus could have been waiting for me the entire time, but about one minute after I sat down, it starts up and promptly drives off.  Was I being one of those disorganised and oblivious travellers?

This leg of the bus trip was about 8 hours long.  It seemed to just drag on and on and on.  At one point we had to cross a river on a barge.

Barge / Ferry

I thought this was the border for some reason but alas, that was hours away.  After arriving at the border crossing, finally, everyone has their passports rounded up by the bus conductor.  He then takes the wad of passports to the Vietnamese immigration man in the tiny booth inside.  Only now do we all go inside and wait.  It is the strangest immigration checkpoint I have ever seen.  There were no orderly lines with people waiting to get through screening.  No, none of that.  There was instead a mosh pit of people all around the front of immigration booth.  The worker was there stamping and processing what looked like about a pile of 100 passports from several buses.  When he was done with a passport, he would just throw it up onto the counter and go onto the next one.  The bus conductors would then grab that passport and call out the persons name, they would collect it and then go through to the x-ray machine.  It was like there was almost no regard for actually screening people.  It they have a visa, fine! STAMP.

So, after all the worry about my passport, turns out that it would have been the last thing on the guys list to even slightly care about.

We eventually arrive in the backpacker district of Saigon.  District 1 : Pham Ngu Lao.  I get off the bus and collect my suitcase.  We are all accosted by moto and taxi drivers.  Luckily I had researched the Saigon taxi scam before getting here.  There are countless fake taxis here that either have no metre or a hacked one that charges immensely.  Easy to tell though because they try to rip off the name of the big taxi companies but usually spell it with one letter different.  In any case, I found a real taxi and found my way to my hotel.
I bought a Vietnamese SIM card for my phone and got in contact with another expat Ryan, who is moving to another part of the city.  I am taking Ryan's room in his old expat house and I move in on Thursday.  

I was walking around the street outside my hotel earlier because I was really hungry and wanted dinner.  Not an English word anywhere.  Oh dear.  All the local little shops and street carts had strange looking things in bowls and on plates in the display cabinet... but behind them I could see people sitting down and eating  plates of rice with yummy things on it, soup, noodles.  
I kept walking and looking, growing increasingly despondent.  I decide to give up and return to my hotel and order something from their menu when I suddenly have a second wind, see a shop with some people inside and what looks like a cartoon chicken on the sign outside.  I walk in, the cook says "HERROOOO" and waits expectantly for an order from me.  I throw my hands in the air with the "I have no idea" sign which seems to be universal.  She says "CHIKKI.... RIE".  I assumed she meant chicken and rice so I say "OK!".
She bring me out a plate of yellow rice, a huge deep fried and spiced chicken leg on it, with tomato and cucumber and a bowl of dipping sauce.  It was delicious and only cost $1.15 AUD.  I guess I learnt that sometimes you just have to try.

Tomorrow night I'm going out with Ryan, his friend Sean and he is going to introduce me to some other people he knows... one of whom is an Irish midget who loves prostitutes and drinking.

Should be interesting.

Passport Precipice

*Ring Ring* *Ring Ring*
"Hello?"
"It's Clint from the embassy"

Pretty Australian.  Clint had been in contact with a specialist team back in Australia that deal with these kinds of passport issues.  It turns out that my passport is still ok and valid (hurrah!) ..BUT.. this did not mean that some random immigration worker on some border crossing somewhere would not take issue with a torn page.  It would be something that I would have to decide on risking by myself (Clint threw in here that he would personally do it and did not think it would be an issue).

Thanks Clint!

So I am going to staple it together in a non-obvious fashion and hope for the best!
I had a devious plan though which I hoped might stave off the need for my dodgy staple job.  I was going to the Vietnamese Embassy to get my VISA.
I caught a ride on a moto with a driver wearing a hard hat to the Vietnamese embassy, but it was closed for the next half an hour, so I had to wait.

Waiting photo

After a stinking hot wait, the doors opened and I scampered into the VISA office.
After filling out the form, I asked the man at the counter if he could stick the page sized VISA sticker to the opposite side of the torn page, thus mending it with great efficiency!  To my surprise he nodded and said OK!

Then proceeded to not do it.  :(  Fail.  Back to dodgy staple fix it seems.

I would like to add at this point, that since I have arrived in Cambodia, I have been sick.  There was some slight relief from the seemingly brutal Khmer cupping and scraping I had done, however illness persisted and I even picked up some new ones to add to the pile.

Extreme Cupping

A few days ago, the friend I was initially staying with (whom was also sick), told me he had found out he caught Typhoid and that it was possible that I had it too.  Well shit.
Considering how crap I have been feeling and after reading up on Typhoid, it was certainly worth going to the doctor to make sure.
I arrive at the clinic, get assessed by the doctor and he decides on a blood test straight away.  I have it done by the nurse (by the way, the most painless injections and needle work I've ever experienced) and am told to come back at 5pm.
I return punctually for my results.  POSITIVE to Typhoid, but this is quickly dismissed by the doctor as he asked me if I was vaccinated against it which I was..... 3 weeks ago... hence the positive result.
At the risk of sounding historically insensitive, the Cambodian doctor decided to carpet bomb my body with meds, just to make sure.

"I say we take off and nuke the entire site from orbit. It's the only way to be sure."

While waiting for my script to be prepared I was sitting next to a Khmer girl in the waiting room.  She started talking to me and it turns out she was one of the reception girls from the Biker hotel I was staying at previously and had recognised me.  We talked a little and she told me that the hotel was dying fast... that the owner and his friends were drunk and stoned most of the time and the business was hemorrhaging.  Such a shame.

My script was declared ready so I collected it and returned to my hotel only to see what I had been prescribed.  Take your medicine, Michael....TAKE IT.

Relax guy, it's perfectly harmless!

So back to the passport.  I leave for Saigon on Monday morning on a bus that goes to Phnom Penh then across the border into Vietnam.  This is where my passport will be put to the test.  I can't imagine how amazingly annoying it will be to get turned away from the border there, have to come back into Cambodia, buy a new VISA for Cambodia, go to Phnom Penh again and organise a new passport with the Australian embassy there.

Fingers crossed eh?