Monday, March 26, 2007

Han-noyed

We arrived in Hanoi at 5am, exhausted and nervous. Since nearly everyone we had met who had been to Hanoi had a story of how their bags had been stolen or they had been robbed, we were not feeling all too comfortable about being dropped off on some random street while still dark out. As soon as we stepped off the bus we were targeted, and about ten leering Vietnamese men surrounded us, while trying to bully us into going with them somewhere. We knew where we wanted to go, but it is impossible to trust any driver because they are known for dropping you off at a fake hotel that appears to be shutdown, so they can then take you to another one and make more money off of you. We quickly walked away and luckily found a taxi that would take us to a central landmark, where we could navigate ourselves to our guesthouse.


We (Ros, the English girl was still with us) spent the day roaming around the streets of this CRAZY city. None of us had ever experienced anything like it. Thousands upon thousands of motorcycles crammed the streets and sidewalks, going in every direction, regardless of what side they were supposed to be on. We quickly learned that the only way to cross the road was to take a deep breath, step down and hope they swerve to avoid you. I was freaking out. Ian of course was loving it.


One day in the city was enough and we promptly booked a trip to Ha long Bay, famous for its thousands of limestone outcrops jetting out of its waters. After a bus ride to the port, a group of us boarded a gorgeous antique looking sleeper ship. The scenery was incredible. We spent the day sailing through the infinite collage of tall thin rock formations that stretched right out to the horizon. We stopped to explore some mighty big caves and admire the ancient stalagmites and stalactites (I can never remember which is which). While the sun set, we set out in kayaks to explore the intricate maze of islands.


That evening our boat landed at Cat Ba Island and a group of us went out for some drinks and Vietnamese cuisine. Lets just say we were in for a real shock. Up until then, we kept seeing hard boiled eggs being sold with either the number 1, 2, or 3 written on it. What we discovered when one of the guys opened up his egg with a 3 on it was that the numbers represent the stage of the chicken foetus' development. The sight was extremely disturbing, to say the least. Typically, Ian couldn't help himself and felt the need to gross me out even more by actually eating it. I will never look at him the same way again.


The next morning we went for a hike/ rock climb (which we are very good at by now), then back on the boat in the afternoon for an evening of entertainment. A bunch of very cool American guys on our boat decided to string up some bed sheets across the top deck, recruit our Vietnamese tour guide, and put on a brilliant Shakespear style play for us all that left us falling off the deck chairs with hysterical laughter! Our surroundings at night were so beautiful. Our boat anchored in a small cove, and was surrounded on all sides by the enormous rock walls looming over us, the mist and the moon creating the most haunting atmosphere. As the whiskey set in the boys decided to abandon ship and one after the other dove off the roof into the phosphorescent waters. Oh, crazy boys. We slept on the boat that night and early the next morning set sail for the long ride back.


Once back in Hanoi, the serenity of the last three days instantly wore off. Blaring horns, swerving motorbikes, and screaming Vietnamese people shook us back into reality.....and shaken we were. That night after a nice dinner with the group from our boat, Ian dropped me off at our hotel, then headed off to meet the guys for a drink. As I sat in our room I had a very uneasy feeling, although I attributed it to the presence of the giant rat that ran out from under our bed, which I had to battle out the door. Really, that's just another way of saying, I jumped onto the bed screaming, while this rat ran circles around me until it eventually found the door.

In the meantime, out on the street, Ian was being surrounded by three men on motorbikes, who subsequently held him at knife point and demanded all his money. Now, I would love to say that Ian responded as Crocodile Dundee had, when faced with the same situation - look at them and say, "You call that a knife? Now THIS is a knife." Then pull his own butcher knife out of his pants, of course. Okay, so it didn't work out that way. Ian was forced to give them what he had, no questions asked. It was lucky he only had about $12 on him, which he calmly handed over. What absolutely shocked him next, however, was when he noticed a group of about ten police men only about ten meters away, watching it all happen and not doing a thing! Once the men left, Ian ran over to the police, but they pretended not to understand and responded with complete indifference. The whole situation was really scary, as we were left realizing how alone we really were. There was absolutely no protection for us in this country.


We decided to leave Hanoi as soon as we could, but the next bus available wasn't for another two days. Our plan the next day was to go to the famous Chi Minh Mausoleum and museum. Since his death, Ho Chi Minh, the beloved ex-president of Vietnam is viewed more like a God. When he died his final request was to be cremated, so in good ole Vietnamese fashion, they discarded his wishes and instead, embalmed his corpse and put it on display in a glass sarcophagus for the public. Hey, why not? After hours looking for the Mausoleum, we finally found it, but were denied access as it was closed because it was Friday. Who knows? We then went to the Ho Chi Minh Museum, only to pay, then after 20 minutes be told to get out because they were closing. Turns out the museums are only open from 8am- 11am on the days they actually ARE open. Sure....makes perfect sense. Sigh....


By now, we were beyond annoyed with this city. The next day we counted the hours until our bus left. The bus finally pulled up and being overloaded as usual, they had run out of room for the luggage. With complete disregard, the man threw Ian's huge pack onto my lap and began pounding it into me with the door when it wouldn't close! We were in disbelief at the blatant rudeness of nearly every Vietnamese person we'd encountered so far. Never had either of us been treated this way before, and this is a country trying to build their economy from tourism! It is no wonder that 95% of tourists who visit Vietnam never go back. So far this was the most difficult country that either of us had travelled.


We boarded a larger bus for the rest of the journey south. For the next few hours the bus driver, blaring his horn, swerved in and out of traffic on the narrow, bumpy roads, at break-neck speed. I don't know how we didn't hit something since all the other buses were doing the same thing. As the unwilling participants in game after game of road chicken, pretty much all the Westerners (all eight of us) thought we were going to die. It was so terrifying, it was impossible to sleep, although it was impossible anyway since Ian and I were confined to 1 1/2 seats, while the Vietnamese man beside me laid across three seats, hooked his arm over my arm rest and leaned up against me! I felt like screaming, "ARE YOU SERIOUS?!?!?"


*Deeeeep Breath!* It HAS to get better than this....right?

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