I have so much ground to cover figuratively having not kept up with the blog when we have covered so much ground physically. I last wrote about my encounters in Dalat that lead us to the seaside town of Nha Trang. I have failed to write since then about Nha Trang, Hoi An, Hue and Hanoi.
As you will have already noticed most of my blogs have been about the clashing of our culture with the far east. However, it seems that these last few places are best talked about in relation to specific moments where something was definitely lost in translation.
To start where I left off then with Nha Trang. This large beach town reminded me of an under-developed version of Miami with the tall hotels and apartment buildings lining the coast. If you turned your back on all of this the view out accross the water was still beautiful.
We spent our time on the beach and enjoying the "buzzing" nightlife. It was not a place to immerse yourself in culture. Our most memorable experience came from (as ever) a day trip on a boat which included seeing a few of the surrounding islands. This was all lovely except when, after lunch, the guide said that a famous Vietnamese boyband were going to play for us all. We of course thought he was joking. In a matter of minutes the table we had eaten lunch on was turned into a stage and a few of the crew were tuning guitars and had set up a drum kit. They proceeded to play a few Vietnamese songs but most of the time was spent with the guide/lead singer thrusting at all the girls on board. Of course I was sat right in the middle didn't quite know where to look. Before anyone asks-no he was not cute. He was 40 if a day and kept saying things like "Up the bum no baby". Culture clash number one.
The second occurred in Hoi An that is famed for its tailoring. Unfortunately, we seemed to pick the most reluctant tailors in the town.I got a dress and Lizzie had a dress and playsuit made. After the initial measurements we came back for a fitting and all garments had to be adjusted. That was fine but when we returned and my dress was now a little too big and Lizzies' were still not right they seemed to become...well...arsey. When we came back a third time they quite obviously wanted to see the back of us and all pretence of friendliness had vanished. My dress was slightly baggy and Lizzie's playsuit was slightly too small. It seemed that my width and Lizzie's height was alien to them. Culture clash number two.
Hue was fairly uneventful and really quite pretty. We spent our time enjoying the old citadel and the surrounding countryside. Our only problem ocurred when we thought we had agreed a fixed price with a cyclo driver and we had not. It wasn't pretty.
We were very excited to get to Hanoi becasue we knew a few people who had told us it was their favourite city while travelling and we were keen to see what all the fuss was about.
A majority of our time was spent wandering around the the old quarter where we were staying. We could get lost for hours in the narrow winding streets that were crowded with restaurants, bars and shops.
I felt that I should try and experience some culture before we left the city so I went to see the Museum of Ethnology. Oh what a mistake. I seemed to attract the moto drivers from hell.
The one who took me there (after some rather heated haggling) was chatting away quite politely about where I was from and where I was staying, all joking and light. He then asked if my dorm was mixed or just girls. "Just girls", I said happily. Although this hadn't been our choice I was pleased not to be seen as another easy Westerner.
"I think you have more fun in mixed dorm", he said.
I just laughed thinking he was being funny. He was quiet for a minute and then said, "After you have been to Museum you spend an hour with me". This should have been my first warning but I thought he wanted me to spend more money getting him to show me the city.
"No thank you. I have to get back to meet my friend".
"Oh come on you come back and have fun with me". This same dialogue continued for a bit until I realised that he didn't want to show me the odd Pagoda or War monument. I continued to be polite.
"No thank you".
"Oh come on you come for half an hour".
"No".
The fact the amount of suggestively allotted time had decreased hardly made me keener.
"Don't you want to see my big banana?" shockingly he actually said that. I wondered how successful I would be at rolling off the bike at the next corner. I was wearing a maxi dress and this made the manoeuver far more complicated. I thought I might just be able to beat him into a stupor with my Lonely Planet if he didn't back off. I kept saying "No" for another few minutes.
"Why not? I like women you like men"he said.
Ah, get out clause here.
"Actually I like women", I ventured.
"Bullshit".
I don't think they really believe in lesbians here.
We still weren't at the museum and I was beginnning to wonder if he was taking me back to his house to have his wicked half an hour with me.
"You come with me and you will be happy".
I tried to explain that it wouldn'tmake me happy.
"I tried Vietnamese women but never Western woman".
"I'm flattered you want to "try" me but still no".
Thankfully we were approaching the museum. I warned him that it would be very unpleasent should he still be there when I came out.
On the way back the driver barley talked to me which was a relief. It was only when he tried to dupe me out of 100 dong by pretending he hadn't just put the note I'd given him in his back pocket, that I almost throttled him.
I got back to the room and flopped down on the bed vowing never to leave the room again.
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