The Calm Before

It seems that Mui Ne is well-known for its winds, making it a bit of a Vietnamese mecca for sailing and kite surfing. Which seemed odd to me since, despite the strong wind, no one can be seen doing either. It turns out that the wind I thought was strong is considered a 'still wind' and they are simply waiting for what will surely come.
Thanks to the diligent work of a Ms. Grey, reporter for the Kitsilano Record, we can say that we aren't expecting a typhoon to make landfall anywhere near where we are. Even so, on the beach a gaggle of would be kite surfers anticipating winds to go from the current 15 knots to 30 knots by the weekend as the most recent typhoon heads west.
I, for one, would like to see that.

A Rare Sighting

Rob, a childhood friend of Donna's with whom we are travelling, believes he spotted an Alaskian Cochwalloper, although he seems doubtful of their migratory pattern. I for one have little to add on the subject other than to wonder if that make him a naturalist or a naturist.

Mui Ne

What a welcome respite Mui Ne is from the frantic noises of Ho Chi Minh. We've arrived in this fishing village just as it is set to explode with tourists. The resorts seem to outnumber the tourists for now, but it may just be a matter of time. We are staying at The Sailing Club, which is likely to be our most expensive stay throughout the trip. It is beautiful and the service is everpresent and yet unobtrusive. Time to be pampered.
I'm big on being pampered.
The resort is stunning. I believe it is owned by a Kiwi. Certainly it has the details that appeal to foreigners and likely don't make sense to locals. We have a semi-detached bungalow with a thatched roof and a giant mosquito net that is draped over a king sized bed. The furiture is natural local wood. Why would we want a thatched roof? Crazy rich people.
The water is extremely warm and the waves are strong. The sea here is rich with shellfish and so getting in the water means navigating a stretch of shells that swirl around your feet for the first few metres. But after that the sand is soft and slowly slopes away.
There are other tourists here, but the sea is virtually free of the typical tourist clutter. No banana boats or jet skis. It's just quietly beautiful.

Mekong Delta

From Saigon, we took a bus to the northern edge of the Mekong Delta. There we were given a very touristy tour of a few islands. We were treated to local candy which was tasty and to local singing which was not. Actually, truth be told the singing was pretty painful. The instruments sound out of key as well, which kind of works with the singing since it sounds out of key as well. But they were quite proud and so we were kind with our applause and even tipped them. "Ha!", I say to the tourists who follow, for we only encouraged them.
Still, it was good to get a sense of the Mekong, however limited.

Cu Chi Tunnels

Totally freaky. We took a guided tour of a preserved section of the Cu Chi Tunnels. Originally 350 km in length, we had the chance to crawl through a few hundred yards of westerner widened tunnels. I'm certainly glad they widened them or I could't have even tried. The first entrance they showed us is preserved as it was: a small rectangular block hidden in the forest floor. I tried to climb down into the hole - feet first - and at my hips I was stuck fast. I was floating in the air unable to touch bottom. Rob could climb through, but had some geniune trouble getting out and need the guides instructions. Like a puzzle, he had to take particular positions and rotations to get back through the opening.
The widened section was far from wide. Those who were brave enough or curious enough climbed down 7 or 8 feet and then started crawling down little tunnels in relative darkness punctuated by the odd red light set into the wall and the occasionaly camera flash. Donna thought the better of it. I, being bigger than the average westerner, still didn't fit very well and where others were hunched, I had to crawl.
I have a photo I took of myself in the tunnel. It was pitch black and I held out the camera infront of myself, hoping that it was aimed at me, and when the flash went off my eyes weren't prepared for that burst of light. The result is a human version of a deer on a highway.
All the while, in the distance, live ammunition is being fired by tourists - M16's and other era rifles. And you can't help but imagine what it must have been like - for both sides. How frightening for American GI's to know that the enemy could pop up behind you at any time. And how desperate you'd have to be to live in those tiny tunnels underground.

Cao Dai Temple

While I often struggle to grasp the appeal of religions, the Cao Dai religion particularly seemed odd. It is, from what I've gathered, a mix of other religions. It elements from each of the competing religions in Vietnam and roles them into one brightly coloured bundle. The temple we visited is the marquee temple in Vietnam and while it was kind of cool, it was also kitchy looking and a little too Crayola for this kid.

War Remnants Museum

We've learned to cross the street. It took some courage, but we wanted to see some sights and the best way is by foot. Our morning was comprised of breakfast and a stroll around the neighbourhood. Around noon two of our friends arrived. We had a couple of cold beers and feeling brave we took to the streets.
The highlight of the afternoon was War Remnants Museum. A sombre place, it took us through the Vietnam War from a very different perspective. It begins with the obvious, they don't call it the Vietnam War, but rather the American War.

Time

Barb, I'm told that we are 12 hours ahead of you in Ontario and 15 hours ahead of Vancouver.

Traffic

Waiting for us at the airport was a man with a sign with our name on it. Did we feel special? Wow.
He had a minivan, with airconditioning, and another two people to pick up. Once we were all assembled we took off into the flow of traffic. "Flow" is the best word to describe what amounts to traffic rules. I've seen a few big cities in a fair number of places and this is the craziest traffic I've seen. The shear number of scooters (well scooters and there various deformed cousins) is boggling. But how they flow is the amazing thing.
Think of a stadium concourse just before kick off. Big streams of people flow left and right and there is an informal sense of the right and wrong side of the concourse, but if you want to move more quickly you dodge and weave against the flow of traffic. If you get to your gate, you turn into the flow and slowly make your way over. If you waited for a break, well the game would be well on its way before you got to your seat.
Now imagine that madness on motorized vehicles. Lanes are suggestions. Turn signals are warnings. Horns are constant. Most intersections have neither stop signs nor lights.
It is absolutely amazing to me that I haven't witnessed an accident yet. Rush hour was unbelievable, but it is pretty amazing even at what passes for quiet times.
Crossing the street has become an adventure. A steady movement combined with faith is the only recipe. Without faith that they will weave around you, you would be confined to a single block. It may be that come rush hour we will catch a cab just to cross the road.

Customs

On the flight to Vietnam, we sat next to a man who was born in Vietnam and moved to the US at the age of ten. He had recently returned to Vietnam to work for a foreign multi-national. A very western man with an inside scoop, he gave us a page full of what are hope are to be invaluable tips. From taxi companies to itineraries and he wrote it all down.
It's funny how some people can't resist the urge to be helpful. He was that sort of man. He wasn't satisfied with a list of tips. He encouraged us to get out ahead of the crowd and race towards customs with him as the line up was about to swell. Which we did to no avail as there was a prior flight just ahead of us.
Customs was a large room with a dozen chaotic lines. Each one growing quickly and looking daunting. Each one save for three. The three short lines all had signs that clearly ruled us out - not having a diplomatic passport or other such ID. Our new found guide told us to follow him into a short "Investors" line. He was satisfied there. He spoke to a guard and walked to the front of the line, still beckoning us to follow. He took our passports and told us he was going to tell them that we were investors.
Before we could discuss it, he was gone. Gone only three feet, but an important guard controlled three feet. Both of us were nervous. Too nervous to want to admitt we were nervous. Donna braved the words,"I'm not sure how comfortable I am with this."
But then the customs guard called us over. He asked if we were there as tourists and not wanting to lie and not wanting to go back and get in a now massive line, I quietly said, "Yes." I don't know if I thought that the quiet part would help somehow or if it was just a typical twelve year old reaction.
But that was it. Two stamps and we were through. I guess we'll just have to see about getting out.

First Stop - Hong Kong Airport

Last night, no wait, maybe earlier today, oh who knows when - anyway we were to start our trip at one o'clock in the morning in Vancouver, but that didn't happen. It took a few hours longer than planned to get off the ground. First off, our plane was delayed leaving New York and we, tired and cold in an empty airport, had to wait. Then when we got on the plane they discovered an engine problem. I for one was more than willing to wait. By the time it was resolved, someone on board had a baby with a fever. Or I suppose I mean someone's baby had a fever. Of course, it would have been a much bigger deal if she had had the baby on the plane. Either way, she and the baby were suddenly not fit to travel and they had to get off - which is the quick part. The slow part is finding their luggage. Another good rule in my mind as I never want to fly with people's unaccompanied luggage. So by the time we were ready to go, Russia was closed and we were no longer allowed to cut through their yard. This meant we needed to be in the air longer, which meant we needed more fuel, which meant we had to wait.
I mention all of this not as a complaint. I was prepared for 24 hours of travel and with a planned eight hour layover in Hong Kong, it made no real difference to me. I mention it instead for those who know my wife. She can go a little squirrelly in a car ride. A three hour flight stresses her out. So, you must understand that I feared she would go mad. Anxious about the flight without its delays, she had packed sleeping pills and planned to drink them with wine if needed.
What I am happy to report is a one-hundred-percent incident free flight. No outbursts. No tirades. Instead she slept for hours unassisted by either wine or pills.
Now all we have is a short flight from Hong Kong to Saigon. Should be no problem.

Science World's Body Works

Science World Body Works
I can't tell you why looking at plastic preserved actual humans was so massively more engrossing than looking at plastic models, but it was. I was fascinated. The odd part is that they don't even look real. They are saturated with plastic and exposed and there is nothing normal about that. I had to remind myself that these weren't artists' creations. These we actual people. Or at least parts of them.
The two lungs - healthy and unhealthy - side by side were startling. The cross section of an obese person was captivating. But I had imagined them or seen photos. It was the vast array of things that I had never seen before that keep running through my mind.

• The replacement hip - so different than I had imagined.
• The head reduced to skull and veins - the veins suspended three dimensionally, amazingly complicated and yet efficient.
• The appendix - so small, so insignificant looking.
• The brain and all its main nerves separated from the body - made us look like an alien invader from science fiction.

Well worth the trip.

Smoking

I understand that smokers feel put out. We've pushed them out of our restaurants and bars, out of theatres and stadiums, out of offices and airplanes. (well maybe not literally out of planes, but it sounds like we could) And for the most part, as a non-smoker, it seems we've been winning.

We've managed to coral smokers. Keeping them confined to little glass boxes in airports and alleyways outside of office towers. Typically, they have been left either hotboxing themselves or shivering outdoors in forgotten, unwanted spaces.

Well except for the patio. With the summer having been drowned away by a few pineapple expresses, it isn't front of mind, but we non-smokers have been losing the war on the last remaining front: the Patio.

Sure, you might think, on a cold November day with wind and rain driving against the glass, as you sit toasty and warm in your smoke free restaurant, "Give them the Patio. Let them have it. Let them shiver and drown for their addiction." And I'd agree, except that I know summer will come again and the sun will come out and I will want to sit out there on the patio enjoying a cold beer.

Victory may be at hand. Vancouver is considering expanding its ban on smoking to include patios. I for one truly hope it succeeds. I'm just not happy winning nine months of the year.

Big Things in Small Places

We are a nation strangely obsessed with giant statues. Not monuments like Mount Rushmore or the Statue of Liberty. For the serious statues, we stand aside for our American friends. No we like craziness, we like inane. I don't know the intentions of the creators of Sudbury's Big Nickel or the Wawa Goose or the giant Muskie in Kenora. Who needs a big nickel looming over their town. Or for that matter a giant fish or bird or lobster or wheel of cheese? At which planning meeting did the they pass that intention? Was it to increase tourism?
"Listen Frank, I'm sure that people would drive to Wawa to see a big goose. Where else would they go to see a big goose?"
As inane as the goose and nickel are, I have two favourites in inanity. One I've seen and one I've not.
The first I have yet to see: The Giant Pierogi. I guess my main question is simply, 'How does one recognize a Pierogi, giant or otherwise?' It really doesn't have much of a shape to it and the colour couldn't be more bland. Certainly it isn't a food that appears in a great deal of still life and so I find it remarkable that someone would make a giant version of it.
The second I saw recently: The Giant Gnome. An oxymoron of enormous proportions. A gnome is a gnome because it isn't giant.
Got to love that Canadian identity.

Remembering My Grandfather

Craig's List

I am suddenly a huge fan of Craig's List. Now that we've bought a place, we have furniture that will fit and some that won't. "Won't" ranges of course to include the armoire for which there is no room and the corner stand which will not do, not in the new place.
Since putting our things on Craig's List, we've sold our patio set, heat lamp, bedroom suite, wine rack/side table, two lamps, and corner stand. All of which is fueling our missing furniture fund. While I strongly suspect we won't come out ahead, we haven't lost nearly as much money as I thought we would.
I'm not surprised at the interest we had in the patio set and the bedroom suite. What amazed me was the fervor for the lamps. Who would have thought that anyone would give us money for those old Ikea lamps. Even crazier to me was the notion that someone would drive in from Richmond to buy our corner stand.
Anyway, if you know anyone that is looking for an armoire or an area rug, send 'em to Craig's List for us, would ya.

Knife Thrower

I can't say that I took a lot of pictures this halloween. A little video of Claudio Lopez of course and a couple of shots with my phone at Michelle's place. Once I was in costume (a blindfolded knife thrower) it was hard to see.
I could get around, but I had thought that it would be very annoying for me to wear a blindfold all night. The truth is I loved it, if only because it made others uncomfortable, which is sort of the point on Halloween. Isn't it?

MimeTime with SB-1

More Halloween Pictures

Z Effects

I feel better knowing his name was Brock. You see, in a broken telephone way, I heard his name was Rock, and to be outsmarted to the tune of $100,000.00 by a guy named Rock was more than I wanted to bear.

"Friday October 27, 2006 Nat & Drew opened the phone lines at 8am... ...and took call after call of ZFX Guesses.
At 9:39 a.m., Brock of Vancouver Called and made this guess:
A PROPANE TANK VALVE OPENING"