I hadn't realised when I booked the Big Indochina Adventure Contiki tour that it was really the largest amalgamation of a plethora of southeast Asian tour offerings from the company. I had seen the Vietnam Experience and the Vietnam Highlights and the Asian Adventure, but had not realised that the large tour was just a full booking of the Asian Adventure and the Vietnam Experience...and the Vietnam Highlights. See, it's all in the marketing. Some people (who are awesome and good at life like me) booked the full Big Indochina Adventure from Bangkok to Hanoi. Some people, with less vacation time one presumes, booked either the Asian Adventure OR Vietnam Experience. Others, who are whimpy, booked only Vietnam Highlights. The transition was an adventure in itself.
Nine of us (10 with Monte, our tour manager) left Siem Reap, Cambodia headed for the airport and Siagon (now Ho Chi Minh City, but we'll get into that in a minute), Vietnam. It was odd to load only a few of us onto the bus and then waive goodbye to some of my favorite new people as we left them behind. When we got into Vietnam, we explored a bit, finding the Skybar, but it was raining so blah, but it was still fun. Then we met the newbies for dinner. These are the Vietnam Experience package buyers. They are the adventurous ones. Because we went into the Mekong Delta and spent the night in the jungle. Mosquito nets required.
Our local guide, Ken, was amazing. How amazing? His facebook name is "Prince Ken." I cannot make this up. What immediately endeared Ken to me is that he had the whiny Canadian girls' number from the get go. Yes, the whiny Canadians did Vietnam with us, too. But not only that he had mad people skills, he knew his shit. He had a big personality, but he also gave us the best introduction to a country that I think we've received so far. He gave culture, history, popular culture, comparative information, and all with a smile and a sense of humor. Amazing! He also let us in on a big secret: Only the old people call it Ho Chi Minh City. While they all love Uncle Ho, the younger generation prefers the history and significance of Siagon. The best thing about Ken's history was his treatment of the Vietnam War before we went to the museum. In Vietnam, this conflict is known as the American War, so things can get really dicey really fast. Ken started by telling us about tours that he has lead with American War Veterans in attendance. He then talked about civilian victims of agent orange and bombs. He never blamed or accused or frankly even took sides. I appreciated this approach.
So! Ken picked us up and we headed to the MeKong Delta. It was epic. We basically got there, saw a performance of traditional songs, and then ate and rank and played games until the wee small hours of 4:15 am, I think. That was the last time I looked at a clock. Obviously I was chipper at 7:15 for breakfast and everyone wanted to kill me with a knife. Same old, same old. We then went back to Siagon, making a stop over at the Cu Chi Tunnels. I want you all to remember how skinny I am, because I got into one of the tunnel entrances. That has been made wider for tourists...
That night, back in Siagon, we met the 14 who had signed on for Vietnam Highlights. Lots of Limeys! I now know girls from York, Bath, Liverpool, Leeds, and Manchester. Huzzah! I made strides to meet the new ranks at dinner and was successful in meeting 13 of the 14 by night's end. Which leads me to the naming of this post.
Crossing the street. Crossing the street should not be this frightening. In Siagon and then again in Hanoi, holy shit. If you know anything about Vietnam, you know that they are poor and that cars have only recently been introduced to the population in a way that is even remotely affordable for the general population. So they ride motorbikes, scooters, mopeds, bicycles, and everything in between. Which means that the streets are jam-packed with motorbikes, scooters, mopeds, bicycles, and everything in between. In hind sight, this is probably a good thing because I cannot imagine the volume of traffic that would exist if all of these 2-wheeled vehicles were replaced with the four wheel variety. But still. Damn. They use bikes for everything. Delivery trucks. Minivans. I saw a bike with mother, father, baby, toddler, and three kids on it. I have no idea how they all stayed on.
Okay, so there's traffic. How does that make crossing the street even worth mentioning? Show, don't tell:
That, my friends, is the real story. In fact, this video makes it look easy. When I was in Hanoi, a pair of Germans took video of me crossing the street. It is effing scary. My former roommate, Monica, who kicked me out for being an alcoholic, remember? Yeah. She was so afraid of crossing the street that she had a mini panic attack every time she tried it. And she would not cross alone. And even when all 30 of us went some place together and she was in the middle of the pack, she freaked out. Poor dear. She always took a cab back to the hotel.
What makes it even worse is that there is no parking--again, we're new to cars and things here--so everyone just parks up on the sidewalk. Good idea until I have to walk in the middle of the street and watch for traffic and people backing out of their parking spot. Blerg.
I eventually got brave enough to cross the street by myself. Okay, it took all of two crossings before I had the hang of it. I have always been good at Frogger!
So! Back to meeting the new people! I was a bit tired from having just over 2 hours of sleep from the previous night in the MeKong Delta, what with all the Jungle Juice (yum!), so I decided to make it an early night. I walked through the markets, chatting with some people and giving directions on what was a reasonable price for things. I then proceeded to lead everyone across the major street and then down the park. Chatting all the way, I looked around and realised that I was the only returner and that I had 13 new friends in tow...13 of the 14 newcomers. I stopped at a corner and gave directions to the hotel and to the street parallel that had all of the bars. Apparently my directions were so precise that one of the boys thought I sounded like Tom Tom...so they decided to call me Kare Kare. Odd, but I'll take it. I ended-up going to the bar. And then another. And then another...and then we went home. Every time a small group peeled off, they asked me for directions just to be sure. Adorable. Except that they also asked me for directions in new cities...instead of asking our Tour Manager, or the Hotel Reception, for that matter. I really should have collected tips.
More on Vietnam later, friends!
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