How to pack for a trip

You'd think I would know. But despite the fact that I've traveled out of a backpack a few times, I still made a few poor decisions.

Things I brought that I shouldn't have:

Shaving cream - shampoo works fine.
A nearly empty floss container - a full one would be better.
An umbrella - I was promised constant thunderstorms but I have yet to be soaked by anything other than sweat. Fortunately I left it in Saigon.
A metal water bottle - the locals never drink the tap water and it stays empty as I buy liters of pure water for pocket change.
A sweater - useful perhaps as a pillow or mask, but it's a long way from here to anyplace approaching chilly.

There's not much in the "things I didn't bring but should have" category, which is encouraging. The real problem I face is leaving my property strewn over the face of the earth - a missing sock here, pair of boxers there, trail of earplugs near hotel beds - the usual. I still remember the Italian bench where I left some sunglasses in 2012, and a Polish receptionist might still be enjoying the use of my earbuds ever since last summer. I'm acquiring little things here and there (even though I've sworn off most souvenirs for their bulk), so it's really anyone's guess as to whether I'll return with more or less than I left with.

A Vietnamese Retrospective

Now that I've got all that travel writing out of the way, I can talk about my main reason for going anywhere - speaking new languages.

I started learning Vietnamese around October or November, once the trip started to take shape. I found the language to be very difficult, and now that I'm at peak Vietnamese for some time (it will surely fade over the next few months) I still rate it as one of the hardest I've studied.

It just takes a long time, really. The expats I met who had been in the country for two months all were less confident in using the language than I was. Even though I couldn't carry on any kind of complex conversation, I had been practicing the sounds and the rhythm for a while and could pronounce it clearly. That surely came from a combination of my linguistics knowledge and the sheer amount of time I had to practice. With such a long background of study, new vocabulary and usage fell into place rapidly once I got there.

When I came to Vietnam, I knew a few words and phrases, mostly food-related. (Just because I studied for a long time doesn't mean I studied constantly. I spent most of my time on Russian.) When I left, I could easily carry out tourist tasks like asking the price of things, giving addresses, and asking simple directions. I also learned the words for many more foods and could read some signs and advertisements. My language use was very much of the pidgin point-and-say variety, which I had never expected to work so well. And the locals were always surprised to hear a Westerner say anything in Vietnamese. I was once literally applauded by the staff of a fast-food restaurant after asking for the bathroom.

More emphatic pointing without any Vietnamese might also work well, but outside of tourist areas it's hard to count on anyone knowing more than a greeting in English. If you're going to Vietnam, knowing at the very least the numbers and some names of foods will get you far. The language isn't that hard to pronounce either, especially for single words at a time. Knowing what the different marks on the letters mean in terms of pronunciation will also do wonders for your communication. In fact, while you're at it, just learn the whole thing...

A Vietnam Retrospective

Here's a few general travel tips I learned that didn't make it to the other posts:

Take trains between big cities and book tickets at the station. The English language websites cost double compared with buying from the station directly. Everywhere we went had English-speaking staff (and great customer service).

Museums are cheap even by Vietnamese standards. Entrance to each of them averaged 50 cents US. Two (Fine Arts in HCMC and Ethnology in Hanoi) had extra attractions and other buildings not visible at all from the street.

The Chinese chess that people play in parks and cafes is called cờ tướng. We learned to play it and got a travel set of our own. When we played, it was a source of great amusement to the Vietnamese, who gathered in crowds, shouted advice, and moved our pieces for us.

Both of us really enjoyed our time in Vietnam. We have a lot ahead of us, but I would really like to come back. Each place we saw had its own unique facets, and we really did only scratch the surface. I recommend it wholeheartedly.

Hanoi from above and below

We left off, dear reader, at the door of an apartment shared by eight or so Westerners from the US and Europe, who were very kind in letting us stay with them.

I've never lived in a big city, so this probably isn't unique to Hanoi, but I loved walking around the winding alleyways as they meandered away from the main streets. They hardly seemed like planned streets and were barely wide enough to fit a wheelbarrow. Even in these tight spaces, people live and flourish, building houses, riding motorbikes, cutting hair, selling newspapers. It was a great effect at sunset to see the tops of the buildings slowly descending into shadow from below.
We spent a lot of time walking as usual, though we did go out with our hosts to restaurants, bars, and karaoke (my first time). The demand for English teachers meant that they lived comfortably and we were glad to tag along for the treat of pricier Western fare.

I wasn't able this trip to visit the actual mountain communities that still practice traditions distinct from the Viet people. Instead I spent a while at the Museum of Ethnology, which is a multi-story endeavor whose main attraction is actually the minority houses behind the museum. In a large park, the museum and various conservation groups have erected houses and homesteads in the styles of the different ethnic groups of Vietnam. My favorite was the Bahnar village house, a massive, massive building that was suspended on pillars and had a roof easily thirty feet above the floor. The idea is that the size of the house represents the unified ability of the village that came together to make it.

The "above" part of the title refers to the observation tower we didn't go to. Visible from most any point in Hanoi is the Lotte hotel/apartment/department store building, far taller than most. We moseyed around the store for a bit, then were disappointed to see that the observation deck charged a hefty entrance fee. We tried to bluff our way into the apartments to get a view from an upstairs lobby (this worked in Saigon) but the receptionist immediately knew what we were up to. The hotel, however, had unrestricted elevators and a fancy restaurant near the top. Even though we were painfully out of place in sweaty T-shirts, the hostess at the restaurant allowed us to wander freely past the wide windows. Pictured is the result.

After leaving Hanoi, we endured many hours of trains and customs lines, complete with a crisis I had to navigate in sleepy Chinese when the guards misplaced my visa. Now, though, we are safe in our Guilin hotel, resting in soft beds before the next adventure.

Hoi An to Ha Noi

Confusing names at a glance.

Hoi An, the smaller beach town, was nothing short of beautiful. It was again a new side of Vietnam to see, this time a much more rural and agricultural place that was nevertheless experiencing lots of expansion due to tourism.

Unreachable by train, we took a bouncing bus ride from the Da Nang train station. The bus drivers were clearly paid by the journey, because at every stop the passengers would be literally dragged through the doors by an attendant as the bus kept moving. It was also a courier service, as bags of rice or concrete got thrown on with an exchange of money and shouted instructions to deliver the goods to a waiting party at the bus station. The bus driver had two horns, one mild and one blaring, and both were used in liberal measures during the hour-long journey.

In Hoi An, we stayed at a lovely B&B whose host, Thợ, was more gracious and hospitable than I could have believed possible. He was a classical guitarist who played in restaurants and hotels, and he shared several excellent songs with us. Once he even invited us to sing and play at a folk song night in a cafe. Our music was pretty different from the Vietnamese songs, but I'm told it went over well with the crowd.

The Hoi An that people really come to see is the preserved historic old town, kept in good condition with the high-priced ticket sales. I thought the lights and the street performers and the statues came together really well in a very cool spectacle. It had a polished, touristy vibe, but that didn't detract from the feeling.

Development is frozen in the historic center, so the hotels and B&Bs are more on the outskirts. Auberon and I walked around and around, from lodging to beach to rice paddy to old town and back, one day reaching a pedometer count of 26 miles.

Our host procured us a private car from his endless list of acquaintances (I think the driver was a friend of his wife's brother) and we took a drive up to the mountain ruins of Mỹ Sơn. This was the site of temples built centuries ago by the Champa kingdom, which once controlled much of what is now central and southern Vietnam. They practiced Islam and Hinduism, and designed their temple complexes to follow geometric patterns, which can still be seen today. The temples made it through the sands of time and some have been very well restored through the work of international conservationists. It was unfortunately very hot and humid in the forest, so we didn't have too much energy to explore every remaining site.

An afternoon, a night, and a morning spent on the train brought us to Vietnam's capital city of Hanoi, where we stayed in an apartment thanks to the generosity of a friend of Auberon's and her housemates. But that's another post.

Nha Trang and a change of plans

I left off last time just as our first day in Nha Trang was unfolding. Auberon had some digestive problems because of the train food, so that combined with the heat meant he wasn't quite up to going exploring early. After my morning swim, I went to the market that was visible from our hotel room.

The outside was surrounded by fruit and vegetable vendors set up on the sidewalk, and a small enclosed building had aisles of clothes and jewelry. A similar building held the eating area, with the same types of street food I had become used to in Saigon. The largest building was structurally little more than a covered set of stone tables, upon which sat scores of stalls mostly selling meat and fish, though there was more fruit to be had inside too. I bought some sweet rice buns and a few bread rolls and brought them back to our hotel for breakfast.

Later that day, Auberon felt good enough to go to the beach. The beach was nearly empty and the water was beautifully warm and calm. We simply drifted, resting and relaxing in the comfort of the sea. Later, I discovered that I had been terribly sunburned, but the memory of the ocean is still pleasant.

We decided to listen to the advice of our Vietnamese university student friends and switch up our itinerary. The old capital of Hue was out, and the historic river city of Hoi An was in. Every time we mentioned where we were going, they implored us to forget Hue for Hoi An. We figured that they probably knew a thing or two about their own country (three were studying tourism) so we cancelled our previous booking and found a bed-and-breakfast in Hoi An.

I'm writing this from that same B&B, so you know it worked out, but for now I'm signing off. Soon, off again, this time to Hanoi!

Pictured: mountains and a river in Nha Trang.

Saigon and more

We spent most of our time in Ho Chi Minh City simply waking and taking in the sights. But on the last two evenings, Auberon made an excellent discovery. The International Park, just a couple of minutes away from our hostel by foot, filled with social activity in the evening.

We had noticed before that the city parks were unlike others we had seen. My hometown certainly has parks to break up the houses and streets, but the difference lies in the people who come to them. Every day in every park, strangers hung out with one another, sharing games of Chinese chess, cigarettes, aerobics, ballroom dances, conversations, and walks. In my experience, people who relax in parks tend to keep to themselves or their friend group. Not so in Saigon.

What occupied our time the most was long and in-depth conversations with Vietnamese young people who had come to practice their English. Right around sunset, as soon as a foreigner sits down in the park they are approached by students in twos and threes, overcoming shyness and a language barrier to meet other people.

And as soon as a few people gathered around, more would follow. I'm not exaggerating when I say that on both nights we had crowds of at least ten people sitting around and taking turns to talk to us. They were mostly in their early twenties, and there was a wide range of interests, abilities, and personalities. I met language enthusiasts, hospitality students, dressmakers, engineers, and more. The conversations lasted hours.

Auberon enjoyed asking and answering questions about politics and social issues, seeing how people our age thought about the world. These students were all very well informed on current events and had no problem opening up about their values to strangers. I preferred to talk to people who needed more help with their English, since I was impressed with the courage required to approach strangers for help. Of course, I made a bit of progress with my Vietnamese at the same time.

Yesterday we took a break from our usual walking-filled days and took a wonderful train ride north to Nha Trang. We chose the most luxurious train compartment and it certainly paid off. Our companion in the four-bunk room was an older Vietnamese Lady who spent her time sleeping and answering endless phone calls with unique ringtones. We slept often and soundly, the rocking motion of the train reminding us just how busy we had been in Saigon. Outside the window the scenery unfolded into pastoral scenes of rice fields and water buffalo.

This morning I awoke early and went for a swim in the wonderfully warm seas of Nha Trang. Today's weather is a bit less humid than the days before, and sitting in the air-conditioned indoors does nothing to acclimatize me. But later on I'll explore more of the city, as the heat dies down and some of my energy returns.

The shower is cold

And that's fine by me. Here in Hồ Chí Minh, the days are hot and the nights are warm. Despite the heat and humidity, we spend almost all our time walking. Ten, fifteen miles a day, up and down the endless, endless streets of this city.

A lot of the things I see are exactly like what I imagined, which surprises me. Thousands of motorbikes go every which way at intersections (there are posters informing drivers about the new street lights), making crossing the street exactly the adventure described in the guidebooks. The streets are filled with vendors selling hot food and cold drinks out of carts. At the markets, turning any corner means you'll be greeted with a chorus of offers to help you buy something.

In fact I'm pleased to discover how out of place we really are. People stop and stare and wave with loud hellos, even twenty minutes' walk from the backpacker areas. Showing up at a food stand (they have plastic tables to sit at) means the workers run and get the one person who knows some English, or they immediately turn to pointing and holding up fingers. Even after a few days, there are generally smiles at the ridiculous foreigners who can't even complete the most basic of tasks. I love it.

Pictured: the inside of An Đông market in the Chinese district of the city. A middle sized market compared to the others we've visited.

Learning Korean on the way there

I set myself a goal of learning as much Korean as I could - limited to only the plane ride over. I put a couple of phrasebook-type audio courses on my phone, and listened to them all about a dozen times. The in-flight movies all had Korean options, so I saw some scenes of Star Wars, Cars, and Zootopia dubbed excellently.

It wasn't enough. After coming off the plane I retained only the simplest phrases, and couldn't really put any words together. Scared to use the language with strangers, I shied away from a lot of interactions. I was also almost entirely illiterate. If I did this again, I'd use the lengthy plane time to follow a much more structured course, because simply listening to and trying to memorize phrases just didn't work for me. The Korean alphabet is very easy to pick up, too. In the few hours I saw it around me in Seoul, I could begin to piece together the pronunciations of different words. I should have focused on learning to read along with the phrases.

Someday I'll come back here and give the language the attention it deserves. Till then, though, I'm moving on to languages I feel more prepared for, though only time will tell if I really am.

A pause in a long day

This Korean keyboard is just differently-shaped enough to throw off my typing. I'm here in Seoul, safe and sound and counting down the hours (seven of them) until my departure for Ho Chi Minh City. The flight over was unremarkable, and once we landed any memories of it quickly faded.

We landed in Incheon and, denied a complementary hotel room, took a comfortable express train to Seoul. The city is huge - ten million people. Of course with our limited time we could only see a tiny fraction of it, but it was enough to make us both want more. We spent two hours or so walking around the environs of the train station, and saw the endless alleyways of the Namdaemun night market as it was closing up shop. The airline food was tasty and plentiful, so we stopped only to buy coffee and sample some soju before coming back to the eerily deserted airport.

Next stop: Vietnam!

In San Francisco before departure.

One night to go

The visas are in, the hostels are booked, the bags are packed, and the flight leaves tomorrow. Join us for a 3+ month trip that will take us from Ho Chi Minh City to Copenhagen - with the Great Wall and Lake Baikal in between. We'll update this blog with photos and anecdotes as often as we can on the way.

Next stop - Seoul!