I guess if you could just step into one of those Chinese brush paintings, you know the ones with the steep cliffs rising up out of the ocean, incredible forested formations, picture postcard beauty in every direction, Halong Bay would be the place to do it. We took a breathtaking two day cruise through the most beautiful ocean scenery I've ever experienced, moving through channels of amazing giant tock sentinels, gorgeous colors, circling birds, a floating fishing village, something out of James Bond (literally). They made one of the movies here, not sure which one.
Not that it was a perfect trip, as there is a certain 'cattle call' mentality involved in these touristic things, boat after boat, bus after bus of westerners and Vietnamese, a jaded attitude on the part of some of the Vietnamese guys who are plying the tourist trade, but those things definitely pale in comparison to the beauty and good times we had on the trip. I got thrown in with a pretty cool group of youngsters, average age 23, although there were two older couples as well as myself, one Chinese, one Cambodian. But there was a crew of youngsters who were my main companionship.
We were a Mexican, a Spaniard, a Pole, 2 Americans, 2 Aussies, a Brit and 2 Finnish girls, and we formed a nice and happy group, especially when I pulled out the guitar and we sang and played for hours on the upper deck, drinking some smuggled in rum and cokes, and then a bunch of beers. We were the party boat, but it was more about music than alcohol, and I was totally in my element, and they were totally appreciative of my contribution to the good vibes. We sang tons of songs, made up a few improvs, and just had the kind of blast that made everone feel great about our boat and our group. And the song they loved the best was my new 'Have a Happy New Year' piece that I had written earlier this week. They loved it, learned it, and after singing it earlier in the evening, it became our closing song as a reprise. The Polish woman said,'It's the best new year song I ever heard'. So it was super gratifying to create something they really connected with. It may have a future.
The Cambodian couple was interesting to me, even though we didn't share a word, just some friendly smiles. They were maybe a couple years older than me, maybe my age, and I noticed that the man had a bad leg that made it hard for him to climb the stone steps into this amazing cave that was part of the tourist itinerary. I thought, hmmmm, I wonder if his injury has anything to do with Cambodia in the 70s when the Khmer Rouge went about brutalizing and 'reeducating' millions of people. Then I noticed that the 4 fingers of his left hand had been hacked off at the big knuckle. It didn't look like a table saw accident, so I definitely thought of some hideous stuff that he might have gone through. But I couldn't, and likely wouldn't have if I could have asked about it. But his disfugurement was a silent counterpoint to a bunch of happy go lucky western tourists. They were the only Cambodians I'm met so far in this part of the world. Hmmmm
I was definitely the 'eminence gris' of the party, being thirty years older than the rest of the crew, but also being the glue that made a lot of the fun happen. at one point, one of the women asked if I was married, and I said no. They asked how old I was, and I said, you tell me. This is after I had been jamming for a couple of hours and getting lots of laughs and good vibes. One woman said, early 40s, one said 45, I almost said, nope, 49, but instead I said '57', and the Polish woman (cute, by the way, a 'yes', not to put too fine a point on it) actually had an audible gasp when I said it. When I asked her 'did you just gasp?' she said her father is 56 and he seems 20 years older than me. So that's been a bit of a theme, the same thing happened in Song Cong where people were really surprised that I'm as old as I am. I'm not saying this for vanity, it's just what's been happening. I think it's genetics and lack of stress? Hell, I play music every day and make people happy (mostly myself), so I guess it's serving me well. And I've never had a high cholesterol reading. (oh yeah, I've never had my cholesterol checked, but still) But like the doc said, 'And if you had a high reading, would you take lipitor?' Uh, probably not...
I'm nearly out of dong (I love how that sounds), and I've been wanting to not change money until I get to Thailand, so I switched from my $15 room at the hotel to a $6 dorm spot at the Hanoi Backpackers Hostel, where I've been hanging out on the internet. Great place, actually. I set up a cheap cab ride for tomorrow morning at 6:30am, and it looks like I'll even have enough money to get some decent dinner tonight. Kinda hungry actually, maybe something besides noodle soup for a change.
I dig Hanoi, and dig the fact that I got to know the city a bit. It's been a fascinating week and a half here in Vietnam, and I'm really glad that I got here. The highlight was definitely the time I spent celebrating Tet with Lan Anh and her family, and I feel good about having captured something of the feeling in a new song, one that I hope becomes part of the repertoire. I took not one photo, but I got a song, so I'll take that trade every single day...
Next stop, Bangkok, change planes to Chiang Mai, jam with my friends tomorrow night. Life is good.
Off on a sojourn to Halong Bay
I was gonna ask the guy 'halong' does it take to get there? but I managed to restrain myself. Retrain myself? Uh, sure, OK. Just free associating here, but I remember that when I learned how to ask, 'how long does it take to get to Madrid?' in Spanish, 'Cuanto se tarda en llegar a Madrid?', I thought, Glauber, you have stepped up a level in your Spanish speaking. Not that that helps me one iota here. I have about 5 words of Vietnamese that I can call on. Yes, no, thank you, happy new year, hello. Hey what more do you need?
I got a letter from a friend, (who unfortunately can't access this blog on her wireless phone), that says it's clear that I'm not as charmed with Vietnam as I am with the other places I've visited. Uh, that's not my impression at all. I'm digging this place a lot, even though I'm now in the big city beep beep beep. For the past two days, I've eaten my meals at little street places, where for $1.50 I get a bowl of delicious noodle soup with chicken or beef and veggies, and I get to be the appreciative white guy who is priveleged to eat like a Vietnamese. They seem slightly intrigued that I would choose to go this route, but it feels totally right.
Yesterday, I made a repeat visit to a place down the street, and she was happy to see me return. Smiled, said something to her friend, which I'm sure was, 'this guy was here yesterday, he must like my soup'. And then she made a point of showing me that the locals were paying the exact same price as me, as if she could read my mind and the fact that I wondered about it. Good vibes there. If I were in town today, I'd go back again.
Yesterday I took a long walk in search of some of the stuff I read about in the Lonely Planet. I bought a 2006 edition at a bookstore, not wanting to shell out $30 for the latest SE Asia version. I haven't referred to it much, but it was real helpful yesterday since it gave me a map of Hanoi, and I saw that a lot of stuff was in walking distance here in the northern part of the city. I headed toward the Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum, which I knew was closed, but I wanted to see the site anyhow, I didn't need to see his embalmed corpse. To get there, I had to circimvent a very large military compound, which I gather is akin to their pentagon. It stretched for many cith blocks with armed sentries every 100 meters or so. As I walked past those gates, I glanced in to see some impressive buildings and grounds, but I didn't want to look too closely as I was being eyed by the guards. But my guess was that this was the center of the Military power structure of the country, here in the capital city.
I made it to the Mausoleum site, a huge open expanse that you could land a jumbo jet on, and the building itself was a grey, columned affair set on a little rise, with two armed guards standing at attention, guarding the entrance. On either side of the building were impressive stands of bamboo, and there was signage, and murals on both sides as well. There were busloads of Vietnamese tourists on site, snapping pictures of themselves and their children at the Ho Chi Minh site.
Heading back toward my place, I saw the large statue of Lenin in a park nearby, and then I came to the Vietnam Military History Museum, where for a buck I could see some really interesting photos and really really interesting aircraft which had been captured during the French campaign in the 50s and the 'American Imperialist War' of the 60s and 70s. Part of the museum was outside, and you could see a troop carrying US helicopter, and F5 fighter jet, lots of bomb casings, some armored vehicles, missile launchers and other weapons of mass destruction. An artist created an enormous sculpture made of downed US and French airplanes that was a powerful image of the destruction and war that the country has faced. (am I being naive to think that the US was on the wrong side of this conflict?). We unleashed such an incredible shitstorm of destruction here, with millions killed, maimed, deformed in the next generation etc, and for what exactly? Yeah, they get to gloat for winning that war. Yeah, I know I was seeing the North Vietnamese version of events. But this whole chapter is a dark stain on America. It was sobering to walk through the hardware of death.
And I found my way back to the hotel, which was a bit of an accomplishment as I had ranged far afield, so it was nice to make it back for a rest and a shower. Spent a quite night that included some street soup, an ear of street corn and getting lost in my 'White Tiger' book. Up early this morning, the bus will be here any minute to take us to Halong Bay, where we'll board a boat and take an overnighter around the islands and outcroppings. It looks gorgeous. I talked to a few people who have done this trip, and the consensus seems to be that it's a 'booze cruise' with much drinking and revelry... all of which attracts me not a bit. But I'll have my guitar and a pad, so if it's too obnoxious, I'll retire to my private cabin and do what I do. Total cost for this trip, 4 meals, one overnightin a private cabin. $38. Here his is... bye bye
I got a letter from a friend, (who unfortunately can't access this blog on her wireless phone), that says it's clear that I'm not as charmed with Vietnam as I am with the other places I've visited. Uh, that's not my impression at all. I'm digging this place a lot, even though I'm now in the big city beep beep beep. For the past two days, I've eaten my meals at little street places, where for $1.50 I get a bowl of delicious noodle soup with chicken or beef and veggies, and I get to be the appreciative white guy who is priveleged to eat like a Vietnamese. They seem slightly intrigued that I would choose to go this route, but it feels totally right.
Yesterday, I made a repeat visit to a place down the street, and she was happy to see me return. Smiled, said something to her friend, which I'm sure was, 'this guy was here yesterday, he must like my soup'. And then she made a point of showing me that the locals were paying the exact same price as me, as if she could read my mind and the fact that I wondered about it. Good vibes there. If I were in town today, I'd go back again.
Yesterday I took a long walk in search of some of the stuff I read about in the Lonely Planet. I bought a 2006 edition at a bookstore, not wanting to shell out $30 for the latest SE Asia version. I haven't referred to it much, but it was real helpful yesterday since it gave me a map of Hanoi, and I saw that a lot of stuff was in walking distance here in the northern part of the city. I headed toward the Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum, which I knew was closed, but I wanted to see the site anyhow, I didn't need to see his embalmed corpse. To get there, I had to circimvent a very large military compound, which I gather is akin to their pentagon. It stretched for many cith blocks with armed sentries every 100 meters or so. As I walked past those gates, I glanced in to see some impressive buildings and grounds, but I didn't want to look too closely as I was being eyed by the guards. But my guess was that this was the center of the Military power structure of the country, here in the capital city.
I made it to the Mausoleum site, a huge open expanse that you could land a jumbo jet on, and the building itself was a grey, columned affair set on a little rise, with two armed guards standing at attention, guarding the entrance. On either side of the building were impressive stands of bamboo, and there was signage, and murals on both sides as well. There were busloads of Vietnamese tourists on site, snapping pictures of themselves and their children at the Ho Chi Minh site.
Heading back toward my place, I saw the large statue of Lenin in a park nearby, and then I came to the Vietnam Military History Museum, where for a buck I could see some really interesting photos and really really interesting aircraft which had been captured during the French campaign in the 50s and the 'American Imperialist War' of the 60s and 70s. Part of the museum was outside, and you could see a troop carrying US helicopter, and F5 fighter jet, lots of bomb casings, some armored vehicles, missile launchers and other weapons of mass destruction. An artist created an enormous sculpture made of downed US and French airplanes that was a powerful image of the destruction and war that the country has faced. (am I being naive to think that the US was on the wrong side of this conflict?). We unleashed such an incredible shitstorm of destruction here, with millions killed, maimed, deformed in the next generation etc, and for what exactly? Yeah, they get to gloat for winning that war. Yeah, I know I was seeing the North Vietnamese version of events. But this whole chapter is a dark stain on America. It was sobering to walk through the hardware of death.
And I found my way back to the hotel, which was a bit of an accomplishment as I had ranged far afield, so it was nice to make it back for a rest and a shower. Spent a quite night that included some street soup, an ear of street corn and getting lost in my 'White Tiger' book. Up early this morning, the bus will be here any minute to take us to Halong Bay, where we'll board a boat and take an overnighter around the islands and outcroppings. It looks gorgeous. I talked to a few people who have done this trip, and the consensus seems to be that it's a 'booze cruise' with much drinking and revelry... all of which attracts me not a bit. But I'll have my guitar and a pad, so if it's too obnoxious, I'll retire to my private cabin and do what I do. Total cost for this trip, 4 meals, one overnightin a private cabin. $38. Here his is... bye bye
Hang On to Your Dong
As you know, the Vietnamese money is called 'dong'. In honor of the dong, I wrote this tribute to fiscal responsibilty. (If any of you read anything different into it, that's on you, friend)
Hang on to Your Dong (to the tune of 'Hang on to Your Love' by Sade)
In old Hanoi, if you're a foreign boy
Hang on to your dong
On a train or bus, you sure don't need a fuss
Hang on to your dong
Keep your hand in your pocket
Never let it go
Squeeze it very tightly
If you want your dong to grow
It's good to have protection
That's never wrong
Rise up, wise up
Hang on to your dong
Here is my advice, don't make me say it twice
Hang on to your dong
When the money's tight, don't go out at night
Hang on to your dong
And if your dong gets depleted
You need to see a banker
If you don't believe me
I guess you're just a wanker
Follow what I'm saying
It will stay quite long
Rise up, wise up
Hang on to your dong....
Hang on to Your Dong (to the tune of 'Hang on to Your Love' by Sade)
In old Hanoi, if you're a foreign boy
Hang on to your dong
On a train or bus, you sure don't need a fuss
Hang on to your dong
Keep your hand in your pocket
Never let it go
Squeeze it very tightly
If you want your dong to grow
It's good to have protection
That's never wrong
Rise up, wise up
Hang on to your dong
Here is my advice, don't make me say it twice
Hang on to your dong
When the money's tight, don't go out at night
Hang on to your dong
And if your dong gets depleted
You need to see a banker
If you don't believe me
I guess you're just a wanker
Follow what I'm saying
It will stay quite long
Rise up, wise up
Hang on to your dong....
On the street in Old Hanoi
I've never tried opium, forget those rumors, but if I were ever to try it, this seems like the place. All of these narrow twisting alleyways, buildings real close together, Asian faces, mystery smells, women setting up on the street to cook their own blend of noodle soup with maybe chicken, maybe seafood, maybe some mystery stuff that I don't want to know what it is. I'm happy eating the street food, not being able to speak a word, just a smile and a thank you, which is 'Kam an' (sounds just like 'come on', so it's easy to remember.
I'd rather spend my buck and a half there for a meal, rather than at a restaurant or street cafe where the prices are 'unpredictable' especially for westerners, especially during Tet. Felt like I got ripped off the other night, paying a little over $5 for some beef and veggies that you cook right at your table. They set you up with a little grill, and enough fuel to cook the food in front of you. Tasted good, but I thought they jacked me up a little bit, so hey, fuck 'em. Besides, I like sitting with Vietnamese on those little bitty plastic stools, grabbing chopstick fulls of green veggies to dunk into the soup which is always delicious. (Now as for the sanitation of how they clean the bowls that you're eating out of... well, let's hope for the best. But I've had not a whiff of any digestion problems, (I could probably find a better word than 'whiff', but oh well) no diarrhea, cramps, nothing, so I'm thinking this way of eating agrees with me. And I'm skinnier than in the US. Feels good.
It would be hard to find a city that could give less of a damn about the Super Bowl than Hanoi, so it was comical knowing that the game was on, and it would be unlikely to see it. But I was talking this morning with a chinese american guy staying at the same hotel as me, and we figured, what the hell, let's see if we can find it somewhere. I figured that maybe the British guy who owns the Backpacker's hostel (and has been here for decades) might have a good idea if some bar would have it on, so we headed that way. And lo and behold, the game was on there so we got to watch the last quarter of what looked like a good game. I had my cup of Vietnamese coffee, now I'm 'borrowing' one of their computers to write a bit, and hey, I like this place. There's even a really nice piano in the lobby, and I'll bet I get on there once or twice before I leave this town.
Speaking of that Chinese American dude, he told me a horrific story about a Vietnamese friend of his who as a ten year old boy, was one of the 'boat people' who were set upon by pirates as they tried to motor to freedom. There were like 50 people in a small craft, folks who had all of their assets with them, gold, money, anything they could use to start a new life. They were boarded by armed pirates, there were rapes, robberies, horror, and then the fuckers took the spark plugs out of the motor and left them adrift and helpless. People were starving, no one would help them, they tried to flag down boats, but no one would stop, not wanting to be responsible for a boatload of starving Vietnamese. Eventually more than half the people died, suicided, drowned, and they gave up trying to flag down any help, as no one cared. The miracle came when a Norwegian freighter passed them, made a U Turn, rescued the twenty or so survivers and brought them all to Norway for hospitalization and care. The 10 year old spent 3 months in hospital, learning to walk again, as after 50 days of starvation, his muscles were useless. When the Norwegians asked him where he wanted to go (his sister had died and his parents were still in Vietnam), he said the US, where his uncle lived. Norway arranged the visa, bought the ticket, reunited him with his uncle, and now 30 years later, he's a successful IT guy, living in Ontario, CA. Thank you Norway. (hear that, Hansen?)
Well, today is a day to get out of the old quarter and be a good Hanoi tourist, read up on what is available, maybe take in a museum or the Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum. Not sure yet, I'll check the guide book and move out a bit from the narrow zone where I've spent the last couple of days. Tomorrow I'll take a two day trip to Halong Bay, spend a night on the boat, see the sights and be offline (gasp). I realize that I've been more on an internal quest than an external one. I'm basically on a writer's retreat with some interesting background sights and sounds. Because, since I'm not a photographer, I'm just really happy writing songs and prose, reading books, making music, meeting people and experiencing life in a different part of the world. Still feeling really lucky every single day. Better pay my night's lodging and then find that bowl of noodle soup....
I'd rather spend my buck and a half there for a meal, rather than at a restaurant or street cafe where the prices are 'unpredictable' especially for westerners, especially during Tet. Felt like I got ripped off the other night, paying a little over $5 for some beef and veggies that you cook right at your table. They set you up with a little grill, and enough fuel to cook the food in front of you. Tasted good, but I thought they jacked me up a little bit, so hey, fuck 'em. Besides, I like sitting with Vietnamese on those little bitty plastic stools, grabbing chopstick fulls of green veggies to dunk into the soup which is always delicious. (Now as for the sanitation of how they clean the bowls that you're eating out of... well, let's hope for the best. But I've had not a whiff of any digestion problems, (I could probably find a better word than 'whiff', but oh well) no diarrhea, cramps, nothing, so I'm thinking this way of eating agrees with me. And I'm skinnier than in the US. Feels good.
It would be hard to find a city that could give less of a damn about the Super Bowl than Hanoi, so it was comical knowing that the game was on, and it would be unlikely to see it. But I was talking this morning with a chinese american guy staying at the same hotel as me, and we figured, what the hell, let's see if we can find it somewhere. I figured that maybe the British guy who owns the Backpacker's hostel (and has been here for decades) might have a good idea if some bar would have it on, so we headed that way. And lo and behold, the game was on there so we got to watch the last quarter of what looked like a good game. I had my cup of Vietnamese coffee, now I'm 'borrowing' one of their computers to write a bit, and hey, I like this place. There's even a really nice piano in the lobby, and I'll bet I get on there once or twice before I leave this town.
Speaking of that Chinese American dude, he told me a horrific story about a Vietnamese friend of his who as a ten year old boy, was one of the 'boat people' who were set upon by pirates as they tried to motor to freedom. There were like 50 people in a small craft, folks who had all of their assets with them, gold, money, anything they could use to start a new life. They were boarded by armed pirates, there were rapes, robberies, horror, and then the fuckers took the spark plugs out of the motor and left them adrift and helpless. People were starving, no one would help them, they tried to flag down boats, but no one would stop, not wanting to be responsible for a boatload of starving Vietnamese. Eventually more than half the people died, suicided, drowned, and they gave up trying to flag down any help, as no one cared. The miracle came when a Norwegian freighter passed them, made a U Turn, rescued the twenty or so survivers and brought them all to Norway for hospitalization and care. The 10 year old spent 3 months in hospital, learning to walk again, as after 50 days of starvation, his muscles were useless. When the Norwegians asked him where he wanted to go (his sister had died and his parents were still in Vietnam), he said the US, where his uncle lived. Norway arranged the visa, bought the ticket, reunited him with his uncle, and now 30 years later, he's a successful IT guy, living in Ontario, CA. Thank you Norway. (hear that, Hansen?)
Well, today is a day to get out of the old quarter and be a good Hanoi tourist, read up on what is available, maybe take in a museum or the Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum. Not sure yet, I'll check the guide book and move out a bit from the narrow zone where I've spent the last couple of days. Tomorrow I'll take a two day trip to Halong Bay, spend a night on the boat, see the sights and be offline (gasp). I realize that I've been more on an internal quest than an external one. I'm basically on a writer's retreat with some interesting background sights and sounds. Because, since I'm not a photographer, I'm just really happy writing songs and prose, reading books, making music, meeting people and experiencing life in a different part of the world. Still feeling really lucky every single day. Better pay my night's lodging and then find that bowl of noodle soup....
Stunned and shocked and saddened...
I received some terrible news from back home today, when I got onto Facebook and started hearing reports of two highschool kids from South Eugene High getting washed off a rock and drowning on the Oregon Coast. At first the news media didn't release their names until the parents were notified, and I'm thinking (selfishly), 'Please don't let me know them'. And then when they released the names, it's 'Oh no, not him, not that family! His name is Jack Harnsongkram, and I thought, that's a Thai name, oh no could that be Saman's son? Saman is this awesome dude who I've known for years, as he operates the Pad Thai booth at Saturday Market. I checked through my emails to see if by some chance that wasn't his last name, but no, it's him, it's his son, an awesome kid who I hardly knew, but was always impressed with. Just a winning personality, helped his dad at the market, a ready smile, a gorgeous kid. NO! And they hadn't yet recovered the body as of this writing.
When it sunk in, I went into some kind of shock place, wandering around town in a fog, my heart going out to the family, how could they ever recover from this. And Saman is such a prince of a guy, he helped me plan my trip to Thailand, gave me great advice, asked me to check in with him and let me know how it was going. He was going to be there also, but had to get back to the states because his son was still in highschool, otherwise, the family would have spent the winter in Asia. I'm crushed, and I know that the whole market community will be devastated.
I went back to my room, picked up my guitar, and immediately started playing a minor key tribute to the family. It wrote itself in a few minutes, a sad, hurting song of anguish and tears. I took my guitar to the lakeside, found an empty bench, and sat there playing it and playing it, as the water swirled, and the Asian faces walked by and by. There is a little walking bridge out to a small island in the lake and I watched the people walking across it, as the colored flags rippled in the breeze and the guitar played a tribute to a young man who passed way too soon.
An old woman sat on the bench with me for awhile, liked the music, said 'hello'. Then her daughter came up and talked with her for awhile, showed some photographs that she had just had developed of the two of them. The younger woman had a half grain of rice stuck to her upper lip that she was unaware of, and it was bugging me bad. 'Can't you feel that thing on your lip?' I'm thinking to myself, aware of the banality of the thought as compared with the sadness of the moment, but such is life.
After they left, two 19 year old kids sat down and listened to the music. When I took a pause, one of them said, 'Good job', and I asked if he spoke more English'. When he nodded yes, I had to tell them of my 17 year old friend who had just died from a sneaker wave on the Oregon Coast, I acted it out, the wave coming in, the boys swept off the rock, trying to swim and dying. They understood and said, 'Sorry'.
I mean, what can you do? There are no words that will make it better for the family. It's just a ripping ache that will never really be overcome. I guess I just did what I do, which is try and put a sound to it, and a comfort to it, and when I wrote about where songs come from in the previous post, I definitely didn't figure that the next one would come from a sudden heartbreaking accident. God bless the family and may they find comfort somehow. I know they will be supported as well as a community can support, such is the nature of our Saturday Market family...
When it sunk in, I went into some kind of shock place, wandering around town in a fog, my heart going out to the family, how could they ever recover from this. And Saman is such a prince of a guy, he helped me plan my trip to Thailand, gave me great advice, asked me to check in with him and let me know how it was going. He was going to be there also, but had to get back to the states because his son was still in highschool, otherwise, the family would have spent the winter in Asia. I'm crushed, and I know that the whole market community will be devastated.
I went back to my room, picked up my guitar, and immediately started playing a minor key tribute to the family. It wrote itself in a few minutes, a sad, hurting song of anguish and tears. I took my guitar to the lakeside, found an empty bench, and sat there playing it and playing it, as the water swirled, and the Asian faces walked by and by. There is a little walking bridge out to a small island in the lake and I watched the people walking across it, as the colored flags rippled in the breeze and the guitar played a tribute to a young man who passed way too soon.
An old woman sat on the bench with me for awhile, liked the music, said 'hello'. Then her daughter came up and talked with her for awhile, showed some photographs that she had just had developed of the two of them. The younger woman had a half grain of rice stuck to her upper lip that she was unaware of, and it was bugging me bad. 'Can't you feel that thing on your lip?' I'm thinking to myself, aware of the banality of the thought as compared with the sadness of the moment, but such is life.
After they left, two 19 year old kids sat down and listened to the music. When I took a pause, one of them said, 'Good job', and I asked if he spoke more English'. When he nodded yes, I had to tell them of my 17 year old friend who had just died from a sneaker wave on the Oregon Coast, I acted it out, the wave coming in, the boys swept off the rock, trying to swim and dying. They understood and said, 'Sorry'.
I mean, what can you do? There are no words that will make it better for the family. It's just a ripping ache that will never really be overcome. I guess I just did what I do, which is try and put a sound to it, and a comfort to it, and when I wrote about where songs come from in the previous post, I definitely didn't figure that the next one would come from a sudden heartbreaking accident. God bless the family and may they find comfort somehow. I know they will be supported as well as a community can support, such is the nature of our Saturday Market family...
What is up with white people?
I'm sitting having my coffee at the Hanoi Backpackers' Hostel, quite a happening joint in the Old Quarter, feels like we're in the UK. Mostly young people in their early twenties, I'll probably get carded here and tossed out on to the street for being an old dude using their free internet. There is a bank of computers available for free, as well as a bar, restaurant, cheap trips to some of the tourist spots, techno music on the stereo, and pasty white folks as far as the eye can see. Yeesh, it brings out the judgmental side of Glauber.
reminds me of when I was on a bus in southern Spain, not that I would ever be so gauche as to analyze women in terms of 'yes or no', would I or wouldn't I?, (that would be sexist, wouldn't it?) But anyhow, 'IF' I were to think in those terms, that ride in Andalusia was yes yes yes yes, no, yes yes yes no yes yes. Here at the Hanoi Backpackers spot with a bunch of twenty something girls, it's no no no no no no maybe no no no. Hmm, maybe when I was asking about what's up with white people, I was referring to myself? Yeah probably. What's up with me? But it seems like there's a sheen of 'dumb' that envelops a lot of the young tourists I'm coming in contact with. It's that 'spring break in Cancun' vibe, where's the party? '2 for 1 drinks, has anyone seen my Ipod'. OK Glauber, you're officially turning into a bitter old dude. Perhaps I should exit this joint and go do something worthwhile, like try to finsih one of the three tunes that I've got in a state of 'almost there'.
But free internet is so nice to play with on a Sunday morning. I'll leave eventually.
I'm reading a great book at the moment, 'The White Tiger'by Aravind Adiga, young Indian guy, first book, a brutal sardonic look at modern India, prize winner, phenomenal reviews and I'm loving the writing. Highly recommended, especially to those like LM and TWM who have spent time in India. Yowzah!
This has been a songwriting extravaganza for me, and the funny thing is, they are all completely different in tone. There's a jazz thing, a folk thing, a funk thing, a 3 chord comedy thing, an old timey thing or two. Hard to predict which avenue will be the next one, but I'm loving the process of letting it happen the way it wants to. It's like there are all these tunes floating around out there, and if the receptors are tuned and located, the tunes just come into focus. Oh yeah, then I have to work a little.
Lan Anh's mom Mui asked how long I've been working and I said, 'never'. Something about my 'job' is that it rarely feels like a job. I have such a good time making music, I don't have to play shitty bar gigs (that would feel like a job), so it doesn't feel like work. Lucky, just like 'lucky money'.
Speaking of lucky money, I got totally ripped off by a 12 year old girl in Laos named Lili. She was walking around town selling trinkets from a little case that she carried around. A really cute kid, very good English skills, she said she was number one in her class every month, and I totally believe that. She came up to me one day and I blew her off, wasn't interested in a bracelet or some such, but she saw me the next day and said, 'I remember you'. We started a conversation and she was really funny, a little actress.
I still wasn't interested, but once she pulled the 'I'm selling so I can keep going to school' card, she hooked me in. So we're negotiating, and I'm trying to drive her down, because I know she's quoting high. Mostly it was a lot of fun, with much laughter. She's the youngest of a lot of kids, and very charming. I started imitating her facial expressions, you know, the fake 'sad expression' when my offer was too low, and she got the joke, knew that I knew she was acting. We finally settled on a price of about $6 for four little Laotian dolls in natice dress. (made by her parents, she said). When we agreed on the price she said, 'lucky for you, lucky for me'. I was quite happy with the interaction.... perhaps a little less so when I saw the same items at the marketplace and realized she had taken me for at least double of what I could have gotten them for. But hey, she's a pro... girl has a future in sales, I'm convinced of it.
no no no no yes, it's a miracle, no no no.
Neil Young now on the stereo, where am I anyway?
reminds me of when I was on a bus in southern Spain, not that I would ever be so gauche as to analyze women in terms of 'yes or no', would I or wouldn't I?, (that would be sexist, wouldn't it?) But anyhow, 'IF' I were to think in those terms, that ride in Andalusia was yes yes yes yes, no, yes yes yes no yes yes. Here at the Hanoi Backpackers spot with a bunch of twenty something girls, it's no no no no no no maybe no no no. Hmm, maybe when I was asking about what's up with white people, I was referring to myself? Yeah probably. What's up with me? But it seems like there's a sheen of 'dumb' that envelops a lot of the young tourists I'm coming in contact with. It's that 'spring break in Cancun' vibe, where's the party? '2 for 1 drinks, has anyone seen my Ipod'. OK Glauber, you're officially turning into a bitter old dude. Perhaps I should exit this joint and go do something worthwhile, like try to finsih one of the three tunes that I've got in a state of 'almost there'.
But free internet is so nice to play with on a Sunday morning. I'll leave eventually.
I'm reading a great book at the moment, 'The White Tiger'by Aravind Adiga, young Indian guy, first book, a brutal sardonic look at modern India, prize winner, phenomenal reviews and I'm loving the writing. Highly recommended, especially to those like LM and TWM who have spent time in India. Yowzah!
This has been a songwriting extravaganza for me, and the funny thing is, they are all completely different in tone. There's a jazz thing, a folk thing, a funk thing, a 3 chord comedy thing, an old timey thing or two. Hard to predict which avenue will be the next one, but I'm loving the process of letting it happen the way it wants to. It's like there are all these tunes floating around out there, and if the receptors are tuned and located, the tunes just come into focus. Oh yeah, then I have to work a little.
Lan Anh's mom Mui asked how long I've been working and I said, 'never'. Something about my 'job' is that it rarely feels like a job. I have such a good time making music, I don't have to play shitty bar gigs (that would feel like a job), so it doesn't feel like work. Lucky, just like 'lucky money'.
Speaking of lucky money, I got totally ripped off by a 12 year old girl in Laos named Lili. She was walking around town selling trinkets from a little case that she carried around. A really cute kid, very good English skills, she said she was number one in her class every month, and I totally believe that. She came up to me one day and I blew her off, wasn't interested in a bracelet or some such, but she saw me the next day and said, 'I remember you'. We started a conversation and she was really funny, a little actress.
I still wasn't interested, but once she pulled the 'I'm selling so I can keep going to school' card, she hooked me in. So we're negotiating, and I'm trying to drive her down, because I know she's quoting high. Mostly it was a lot of fun, with much laughter. She's the youngest of a lot of kids, and very charming. I started imitating her facial expressions, you know, the fake 'sad expression' when my offer was too low, and she got the joke, knew that I knew she was acting. We finally settled on a price of about $6 for four little Laotian dolls in natice dress. (made by her parents, she said). When we agreed on the price she said, 'lucky for you, lucky for me'. I was quite happy with the interaction.... perhaps a little less so when I saw the same items at the marketplace and realized she had taken me for at least double of what I could have gotten them for. But hey, she's a pro... girl has a future in sales, I'm convinced of it.
no no no no yes, it's a miracle, no no no.
Neil Young now on the stereo, where am I anyway?
One dollar equals 20,000 dong (insert joke here)
Well, my hotel is on Hang Bac St. so I guess I better hang back and write a bit, before crashing out for a nap. I would have chosen a place on Mai Bong Avenue, but that's not how I'm rolling these days. Damn, there are so many funny names. I swear to God, and the owner must have done this on purpose, but there's an art gallery called COCK Contemporary Old Crafts something or other with a K, I didn't commit it to memory, but after the definition is a big sign saying 'Please Try COCK Today' in huge letters. It's a joke, right? Please tell me it's a joke....
Had a super sweet farewell with the family at Uncle's place, where he hosted a wonderful luncheon for his family and Lan Anh's, maybe 11 people in total. As is the custom, all the guys end up at one end of the table so we can slam beers and have frequent toasts apparently. I had a couple of Heinekins, but couldn't keep up with the guys who were chugging and belching. Ah yes, men!. The food was outstanding, as was the vibe.
There was a bus stop right outside his place where I could catch the bus into Hanoi, so it was a very convenient place for our farewells. I sat with L A's Mom, Mui for a moment and expressed my deepest appreciation for her generosity and kindness, telling her that celebrating Tet with her family was one of the greatest experiences of my life. She appreciated my sentiments, and then said something that really upset her daughter, who initially refused to translate it. That certainly piqued my interest, so I insisted that she tell me what mom said. Lan Anh said, 'it's political, and she didn't want to translate'. Of course I insisted, telling her that as a translator, that's what she has to do. She reluctantly agreed.
What mom said was along the lines of, 'in the name of Vietnam, and the Communist Party and Ho Chi Minh, she was happy to welcome me to her place'. It was great agitprop from a bygone era, and I was fascinated by the fact that it was the one time Lan Anh had a cross word with her mom. They get along beautifully, easily and comfortably, and this was the one instance where the daughter got upset with her mom. Generation gap is alive and well. Personally, I loved the sentiment as it was a genuine expression of where the mom was coming from. When I was marching on Washington in 1969, she was scurrying for the bomb shelters every time the alarm sounded, so yeah, she's got something to say about hosting an American, and thank you for the honesty. Right on, Mui! (This is assuming, of course, that Lan Anh gave me an accurate translation. For all I know, Mui could have said, Get out you capitalist bastard!) but I'm thinking I got the true picture.
So the whole crew stood with me at the bus stop, flagged down the right bus, hollered in to find out what the fare was, and just like that, I was in a different reality, bombing into Hanoi on a non-English speaking, all Vietmamese bus. I had to scramble to the back with my backpack and guitar, and there I sat for the next hour as the bus filled up and we headed south. Lan Anh had prepped me to 'not go with anyone on a motorcycle', when I arrived at the station, to only use one of two taxi services, to watch my pockets etc. It was no problem at all. We arrived, I paid ten cents to take a piss at the station, said no to a couple of motorcycle touts, and then grabbed a taxi to the Old Quarter of Hanoi. He spoke no English, but I had checked the guidebook and knew the name of the little lake which is the best landmark, so we agreed on that location. And the price was the correc one 200,000 dong. ($10)
LA had told me that Hanoi is real expensive, similar to Tokyo, uh no, dear, not even in the neighborhood. She said I'd have to pay $40 for a room, so that would suck, but I found a nice room in the first place I went to for $15 that includes breakfast and a private bathroom, so I'm feeling pretty OK about hanging in Hanoi for a few days and checking it out. So far, really good here in the old quarter, narrow winding streets, most things still closed for the holiday, which worked out well as it was a breeze for the taxi to get me here, otherwise traffic is gnarly. I'm looking at taking either a one or two nighter tour to Ha Long Bay, 3 hours from here with a national park, a nice cruise around some gorgeous scenery, and not expensive at all. 3 days all meals and lodging for $75.
And then I booked a flight to .... wait for it.... Chiang Mai, for round two of the northern Thailand experience. Not quite ready to let that life go just yet. (plus I have to sing my 'Boom Boom song at the bar with verses such as 'She looks like Beyonce, Don't tell my fiance'. Yeah, they're gonna dig it. I got a great deal on Air Asia, a flight to Bangkok and then Chiang Mai for $170 total. Had to do it... Now I've got 4 full days to play around the north of Vietnam, and that trip to the coast is sounding and looking good. I'm thinking day after tomorrow...
And in a final nod to how awesome it was in Song Cong, this morning I woke up to a music dream in which a guitar player was performing a song for hundreds of adults who had just filled a gymnasium afte some kind of a workout or jogathon. I was watching the guy perform a really grooving song called 'Reach Out, Reach Out Your Hand', and he had the place really going. The vibe was strong and it was lifting the crowd. I was on the side watching and then I woke up. When I did, I thought to myself, 'why didn't I pay more attention to that song, it was really good'. But I grabbed my guitar and notebook at 5am this morning and started working on a funked out, rap styly thing called, 'Reach Out, Reach Out Your Hand'. I think it was one of those things that God is trying to let me hear, so I went for it, and will continue on that tune. It's off to a good start, and I do believe that there is some connection between, washing one's face in the holy rinse, blessing the ancestors, feeling lots of gratitude and a huge burst of creativity that hit me up there. Gonna try to keep it flowing... though at the moment I'm gonna take a nap. Did I mention that I got up at 5 this morning? :-)
From Hanoi beep beep beep
Had a super sweet farewell with the family at Uncle's place, where he hosted a wonderful luncheon for his family and Lan Anh's, maybe 11 people in total. As is the custom, all the guys end up at one end of the table so we can slam beers and have frequent toasts apparently. I had a couple of Heinekins, but couldn't keep up with the guys who were chugging and belching. Ah yes, men!. The food was outstanding, as was the vibe.
There was a bus stop right outside his place where I could catch the bus into Hanoi, so it was a very convenient place for our farewells. I sat with L A's Mom, Mui for a moment and expressed my deepest appreciation for her generosity and kindness, telling her that celebrating Tet with her family was one of the greatest experiences of my life. She appreciated my sentiments, and then said something that really upset her daughter, who initially refused to translate it. That certainly piqued my interest, so I insisted that she tell me what mom said. Lan Anh said, 'it's political, and she didn't want to translate'. Of course I insisted, telling her that as a translator, that's what she has to do. She reluctantly agreed.
What mom said was along the lines of, 'in the name of Vietnam, and the Communist Party and Ho Chi Minh, she was happy to welcome me to her place'. It was great agitprop from a bygone era, and I was fascinated by the fact that it was the one time Lan Anh had a cross word with her mom. They get along beautifully, easily and comfortably, and this was the one instance where the daughter got upset with her mom. Generation gap is alive and well. Personally, I loved the sentiment as it was a genuine expression of where the mom was coming from. When I was marching on Washington in 1969, she was scurrying for the bomb shelters every time the alarm sounded, so yeah, she's got something to say about hosting an American, and thank you for the honesty. Right on, Mui! (This is assuming, of course, that Lan Anh gave me an accurate translation. For all I know, Mui could have said, Get out you capitalist bastard!) but I'm thinking I got the true picture.
So the whole crew stood with me at the bus stop, flagged down the right bus, hollered in to find out what the fare was, and just like that, I was in a different reality, bombing into Hanoi on a non-English speaking, all Vietmamese bus. I had to scramble to the back with my backpack and guitar, and there I sat for the next hour as the bus filled up and we headed south. Lan Anh had prepped me to 'not go with anyone on a motorcycle', when I arrived at the station, to only use one of two taxi services, to watch my pockets etc. It was no problem at all. We arrived, I paid ten cents to take a piss at the station, said no to a couple of motorcycle touts, and then grabbed a taxi to the Old Quarter of Hanoi. He spoke no English, but I had checked the guidebook and knew the name of the little lake which is the best landmark, so we agreed on that location. And the price was the correc one 200,000 dong. ($10)
LA had told me that Hanoi is real expensive, similar to Tokyo, uh no, dear, not even in the neighborhood. She said I'd have to pay $40 for a room, so that would suck, but I found a nice room in the first place I went to for $15 that includes breakfast and a private bathroom, so I'm feeling pretty OK about hanging in Hanoi for a few days and checking it out. So far, really good here in the old quarter, narrow winding streets, most things still closed for the holiday, which worked out well as it was a breeze for the taxi to get me here, otherwise traffic is gnarly. I'm looking at taking either a one or two nighter tour to Ha Long Bay, 3 hours from here with a national park, a nice cruise around some gorgeous scenery, and not expensive at all. 3 days all meals and lodging for $75.
And then I booked a flight to .... wait for it.... Chiang Mai, for round two of the northern Thailand experience. Not quite ready to let that life go just yet. (plus I have to sing my 'Boom Boom song at the bar with verses such as 'She looks like Beyonce, Don't tell my fiance'. Yeah, they're gonna dig it. I got a great deal on Air Asia, a flight to Bangkok and then Chiang Mai for $170 total. Had to do it... Now I've got 4 full days to play around the north of Vietnam, and that trip to the coast is sounding and looking good. I'm thinking day after tomorrow...
And in a final nod to how awesome it was in Song Cong, this morning I woke up to a music dream in which a guitar player was performing a song for hundreds of adults who had just filled a gymnasium afte some kind of a workout or jogathon. I was watching the guy perform a really grooving song called 'Reach Out, Reach Out Your Hand', and he had the place really going. The vibe was strong and it was lifting the crowd. I was on the side watching and then I woke up. When I did, I thought to myself, 'why didn't I pay more attention to that song, it was really good'. But I grabbed my guitar and notebook at 5am this morning and started working on a funked out, rap styly thing called, 'Reach Out, Reach Out Your Hand'. I think it was one of those things that God is trying to let me hear, so I went for it, and will continue on that tune. It's off to a good start, and I do believe that there is some connection between, washing one's face in the holy rinse, blessing the ancestors, feeling lots of gratitude and a huge burst of creativity that hit me up there. Gonna try to keep it flowing... though at the moment I'm gonna take a nap. Did I mention that I got up at 5 this morning? :-)
From Hanoi beep beep beep
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)