Stories from Nam'

The Vietnam Chapter of the Justin Clouden International Fan Club is strong, very strong.

In my travels, I've become very accustomed to the stares, names, photos, questions and touching that I tend to encounter everywhere from Argentina to Thailand due to my size and skin color.  Nothing however, has compared to the reactions I received in Vietnam.  While I have far too many short stories to relate here regarding the six days we spent there, one stands out in my mind as too funny not to mention.

We were at the pearl farm and museum in Halong Bay when this Vietnamese family is continually pointing, staring and laughing/smiling at me.  After a couple minutes of this and following me around the museum, the mother runs up to me and grabs me pretty forcefully.  Before I knew what was going on, her husband was snapping pictures of us together.  After that, she swapped with her husband and the process continued.  Then, each of their 3 daughters each took their respective turn taking pictures with the big black guy.  All the while, every foreigner, my friends included are rolling with laughter and looking on in disbelief.  While thoroughly embarrassed, I did my best to be a good sport and ambassador of my people.  When I thought things couldn't get more ridiculous, i feel a soft caress on my arm, as the wife moved back in and was petting and stroking my biceps.  She then asks me something in Vietnamese and I must have looked at her with the blankest stare ever because my Vietnamese is just a little rusty.  One of the ladies who was cleaning pearls, who has been giggling uncontrollably at what's transpiring, decides to translate the wife's request.  "She says your very handsome and wants to know if you love her." As I frantically search for an appropriate response, she adds, "Will you kiss her?"  I shoot a glance at the husband who is nodding his head furiously with a grin from ear to ear.  At that point, I thought to myself, "when in Nam'..." and I laid a fat one right on her cheek.

Vietnam was one of my favorite stops so far because of the chance to see a society with a very communist feel that still feels strangely Western and developed.  Hanoi is your typical big city busy beyond belief.  People always talk about Bangkok of having the craziest traffic in the World, but at least there is some resemblance of traffic laws.  In Hanoi, there are very few stoplights or stop signs.  And with millions of scooters and cars moving through the city at any given moment, crossing the street becomes a life threatening situation.  You learn that you literally, need to just start walking slowly in a predictable and methodical manner and the cars and scooters with avoid you.  Some people even recommend closing your eyes.

We arrived in Hanoi around sunset and headed straight to Hotel Rendezvous, which has the most efficient and helpful staff you could ever imagine.  So amazing, that I would trust them with my first born.  The next morning we visited the Ho Chi Minn museum where we were able to learn about him, his life and philosophy.  The museum was also a huge homage to communism as everything was written in heavy communist jargon.  After the museum, we headed over to the Hanoi Hilton, the ironic nickname for the prison that held US soldiers during the war, including Senator John McCain.  Both here and at the Ho Chi Minn museum, there was very little emphasis on the US involvement in the Vietnam War.  America is looked at as the regrettable end to decades of French imperialism.  Vietnam might be the only place that dislikes the French more than the US.  The prison was focused on the torture that the French employed upon the Vietnamese, but seemed to forget the torture that American servicemen went through at their hands.  There were pictures of US soldiers playing chess, laughing, cooking turkeys for Christmas dinner, and playing basketball, which we all know was not quite the case.

The amount of propaganda in this country was definitely cool to experience as well.  Besides the commuspeak and historical portrayals, in public places, there was always a loudspeaker that transmitted a monotoned, sterile, Big Brotheresque voice in a loud booming manner. I felt like I was in the Hunger Games.  The nightlife here was also very interesting.  Everything seemed normal, with loud house music and Vietnamese people dancing in small groups, when at midnight, the police makes their rounds.  They raid and shut down all the bars that refuse to pay the bribe, which made me feel like I was underage again during an alcohol bust.  At this point, everyone, travelers and Vietnamese alike, heads to Lighthouse which is an underground club on the fringe of the downtown area in a seemingly abandoned neighborhood.

We split our time in Vietnam between Hanoi and Halong Bay, where we went on a 3 day/2 night cruise through some of the most beautiful islands and landforms I've ever seen.  We sea kayaked through caves and around islands.  We saw jellyfish (Bryce got stung by one) and played lots of Spades.  We also challenged 5 Vietnamese guys to a game of beach volleyball that become the major attraction at this local-filled beach.  Everyone stopped what they were doing and watched intensely, cheering at every point until the good ol' US of A won.  Were currently in Cambodia and will be heading to Bali shortly for the final leg of the trip.

Til' next time.

walking, stumbling and bumbling our way through the week

Its one am in the morning and the dark sky is littered with twinkling bright lights.  Thousands of bright balls of burning gas flood the night sky.  Dozens of pairs of indigenous eyes stare out at us from the doorways of their huts with extreme curiosity; we must be the talk of the town tonight. The 5 of us are in rural Laos, and our bus is broken down.

Rewind.  ChiangMai is definitely one of our favorite cities so far.  The morning after arriving, we've run into a friend from the States who directs us to the motorbike and motorscooter rental place.  After seeing the plethora of head, leg and arm injuries in Koh Phangan, combined with the organized chaos that is Thai traffic,  we were undoubtedly hesitant about hopping into the fray, however, when in Thailand...  We set off, weaving through the lawless traffic that is downtown: around and in between hundreds of cars, tuk tuks, scooters, bikes, rickshaws and things that would hardly pass for vehicles in the States.  Once out of the city, we were able to visit a couple waterfalls, and the giant Pagoda perched atop the mountain.  While this afternoon was an amazing experience, the best part was definitely returning the bikes with them and more importantly ourselves in our original conditions.

That evening, we took a Thai cooking class with our culinary sherpa, Pot.  Pot is a former undefeated muay thai fighter who gave up his career after suffering a series of injuries in a motorbike accident to teach the falang (foreigners) the ways of thai cusine.  We made an assortment of noodles, soups, and curries from scratch.  We were able to put a little hair on our chests after making jungle curry paste which is made from 40, that's right 40 thai chilies.

The following day, our group split with Bryce and Shannon going on a hike and bike, and Charlie, Alba and myself set off on a 2 day trek through the rainforest that we would never forget.  I personally wasn't planning on doing any treking, so armed with nothing but a pair of loafers, blublocker sunglasses and an unnecessarily heavy backpackers backpack, we set off.  We started by buying supplies at the local market and arrived at the elephant camp to do some riding.  Alba and I were sitting comfortably above these beautiful and powerfully majestic animals enjoying a peaceful ride near the river.  All was perfect in paradise.  Then it happened.  The sky opened up, and Jove let loose a storm that would rock our World.  No longer, were our friends beautiful, powerful nor majestic.  These slow, lumbering creatures crept along the path as we struggled to keep our cameras, phones and other possessions dry.  This was no aguas de marco, or afternoon shower, this was a full on monsoon.  As Alba and I seriously debated the idea of returning back to the city, our guides who spoke no more the couple words of English prepared us to begin the trek.  For the next three and a half hours, we traversed uphill through 6 km of mud, trees, sticks and rocks.  We could barely see more than a foot in front of us and our legs were on fire from the slow climb.  The two ponchos each Charlie and I were under kept the rain out, while simultaneousnessly trapping us in our own sweat, body heat and filth.  At around 5pm, we finally reached the top of the mountain where we would spend the night in a local village.

The village was a very small place with less than 150 inhabitants, who went about their regular business while we freshened up with buckets of water and ate a dinner prepared by our tour guides.  That night we played games with the other travelers and listened to our tour guides sing the classics such as "I shot the tourist."  Our trip down that morning included much falling on my part due to the extreme practicality of my loafers, whitewater rafting and a sigh of relief that those two days were finally over.

The next day we spent relaxing and recovering before hopping on on a 18, I mean 26 hour bus to Luang Prabang, Laos.  The bus spent the night traveling at no more than 25 miles per hour before breaking down somewhere in the Laos countryside.  The most frustrarting part about being stuck somewhere in Laos, is that not only do you not know where you are, no one speaks English, nor cares to communicate what's going on.   Not to mention the fact that watching several Laos men throw water on the engine, bang on pieces of the engine, scrounge for extra parts, all with no rhyme or reason was frustrating to watch.  8 hours delayed, we finally arrive at our destination and I promptly decided to buy my next flight to Hanoi instead of busing it.

Sprinting Through the Week

Sweat rains down all over my face.  Loud Cheering all around me at every painful hit. Loud Thai men shouting out their bets.  Where am I? A Bangkok Muy Thai fight.  After some careful negotiating, my friends and I were able to reserve front row, ring side seats to watch one of the biggest matches of the year, the Battle of Daorungchujaroen.  Watching 110 lbs, 0% body fat Thai men lay down some the hardest kicks and punches I've ever seen was definitely an amazing experience.

The last week or so has been a whirlwind of experiences.  My trip to Inle Lake, Myanmar was amazing.  I had a chance to see the native population live the way that they have been living for centuries.  Armed with my personal tour guide and boat for the day, we took off down the river to the lake that is the center of commerce for this region in the middle part of the country.  Inle Lake is a series of floating villages, farms and factories.  We visited textile, cigar, and paper factories, where little indigenous ladies spent their days working tirelessly and methodically to produce the hand-made goods that get sold throughout the region.  We saw the floating farms as well as visited the market place where the people congregate to trade, purchase and exchange goods everyday.  It was absolutely humbling to visit a place so removed from the rest of the World, untouched by Western hands.

After leaving Myanmar, I headed back to Thailand and made the long 22 hour journey to Koh Phangan in Southern Thailand where I would meet up with my friends and experience what has been called of the best parties in the World.  Imagine a beach with over 20,000 people partying until sunrise, dressed in bright neon colors, covered in fluorescent paint with loud house music pumping, not to mention the fire baton twirlers and fire jump rope, then you might begin to guess what this experience was like.  My favorite part was definitely how open people were.  Everyone was friends with everyone and you really got a sense of the true warmth of humanity.

After spending July 4th recovering from the epic night before, we flew up to Bangkok, which is where I am now.  In a couple of hours, we will be heading to Chiang Mai where we will hopefully do some trekking, visit wildlife reserves and take cooking classes.  Needless to say, I'm very excited!

Fisherman at Inle Lake

Inle Lake Market

Blacksmith

Handmade fabrics

Hand rolling Cigars

Pagoda in Yangon, Myanmar

Til next time.

Navigating with my hands...

I'm getting really good at charades.  That's what happens when you find yourself in a country in which no one speaks English and you don't speak a lick of their language or anything similar.  I'm currently in the country of Myanmar (Burma), in a small village near Inle Lake.  I don't think I've ever been this removed from society and it is both liberating and isolating.  The isolation is compounded by the fact that it is the tourist low season, and as a result, there are less than a handful of tourists, in other words, its me and the locals.

Its a truly exciting time in the country of Myanmar.  Their transition from a traditional closed society to a free and liberated one is happening at the speed of light.  A year ago, there were few cars on the road, solders on every corner and a general lack of freedom.  Today, there is a sense of liberation in the air.  People talk about whatever they like, they are allowed to visit any webpage they like and there are pictures of Aung San Suu Kyi everywhere.

With all the changes however, somethings still lag behind.  The only note of currency available is the 1,000 Kyat, which is approximately worth 80 cents.  So as I write this there is 180,000 kyat in my pocket, which means a stack of 180 pieces of oversized paper.  The country is one of a couple in the World that is not part of the international banking system, which means ATMs are non existent.  Because it is a cash only society, can you imagine buying a computer? car? house? When I say bags of cash, I mean bags of cash.

The biggest annoyance is that while yes USD are accepted, they have to be in pristine, brand-new condition.  Any tear, discoloration or even bend, renders it worthless.  Out of the 25 twenty dollar bills I brought, only 3 were usable.  Luckily my cousin changed the rest out for me.

Myanmar, while closed off to the West for the last couple of decades, has not been closed off to the East.  Development has been occurring here, unbeknownst to us, at a constant rate due to the efforts of China and Malaysia. This means to say that there is a fairly decent infrastructure for a country that just emerged from a several decade rule under a military junta.

As a 6 foot, 220 lbs black man, the stares I receive here are numerous, but its different than other places where I have experienced them.  People here just seem more perplexed than anything else.  They really want to meet you, but the language barrier is almost insurmountable here.  Its actually frustrating for both parties as we want to get to know each other, but charades can only get you so far.  Most interactions I've had so far have been pleasantries and smiling. Lots of smiling.  

One of the more interesting aspects of staring that I notice with people here is that it is interpreted as a positive thing.  In the States, when someone stares at you, our reaction is, "wait, is there something on my face?" We assume that kind of attention to be negative.  Conversely, here the assumption is "wow, what about my face are you admiring?"  I think we all should strive to see the world like the people of Myanmar.

Tomorrow I venture to Lake Inle to see the floating villages.

Til next time.