Hoi An Musings

One of the weirdest experiences of our trip was the bus we took from Da Nang to Hue. The tickets we booked turned out to be on a "sleeping bus". It was indeed lucky that we only had a three hour trip, because this bus was excruciating.

It was entirely full of reclining double decker cots, designed for small people to recline in. There was a bin to put your feet into, underneath the head of the person in front of you. The cots were three wide, with very narrow aisles between each row. The Vietnamese, being of generally smaller stature, were probably not as cramped as we were, but I cannot imagine that the hard, plastic cushions were any more comfortable for them than they were for us.

The money here exchanges at 20,200 dong to a dollar. A trip to an ATM makes one into an instant millionaire, although we have to remember that 2,000,000 dong is just under $100. American dollars are accepted at most places, although you have to keep a keen eye on the exchange rate they use, because what you bargain down from the asking price you can lose on the exchange rate.

One of the curses of this society is the motorbike. It is the main mode of transport, as cars are too expensive for the average person and therefore rare, and public transit is non-existent. In most cities, there is no place to park, so they are all parked on the sidewalk, which means most sidewalks are completely blocked most of the time. Pedestrians are forced to walk in the street, which motorbikes own. One of the most annoying parts of getting around is the incessant shrill blaring of motorbike horns at close range. Peace of mind is constantly being shattered by these penetrating and incessant blasts, often coming with no discernable purpose other than to drive you to distraction.

Crossing the road on foot is dangerous and brutal, as no one pays attention to traffic lights. There is no enforcement of traffic rules, and the one accident we saw resulted in the guilty party driving away as quickly as she could, without exchanging so much as an "are you all right" with the other driver, who was still disentangling herself from her fallen scooter. Helmets are optional, and most of the ones that are worn are so flimsy that they would be of little help in a collision. The best time to be out is when they block the streets to motor traffic in the downtown core of Hoi An, so one only has bicycles and pedestrians to contend with.

There are over 400 tailor shops in Hoi An, all making made to measure clothes and shoes. They all offer similar styles,

although they will make up any style imagineable. They make suits, dresses, shirts, pants, all manner and stlyes of footwear, and anything else that can adorn or clothe the human form. That industry is the basis of tourism here, although the charming ancient streets

and beautiful waterfront, including an interesting sculpture garden, are also attractive. If only there weren't so many businesses doing the same thing, selling the same t-shirts and restaurants selling the same food, all striving for the same tourist dollar.

There are many expensive developments being built on the waterfront for miles south of Da Nang. These luxury condos, complete with golf courses, are meant to be sold to Vietnamese, not foreigners, and the kind of money needed to buy one is unlikely to be earned in a Hoi An tailor shop.

Good Morning, Vietnam!

We flew from Siem Reap directly to Ho Chi Minh City, then immediately to Da Nang. How familiar these names are, bringing back the war news from the '60s and early '70s, when Da Nang housed a huge US air base, and Ho Chi Minh was the leader of the forces fighting for an independent, unified Vietnam.
We have heard of many of these places, part of the war we all came of age opposing. In memory of those times, and in memory of those thousands who died fighting US domination, we toured some of the famous places of that era.

We started in Hue, an ancient city that became the old capital under the Nguyen dynasty, beginning in 1802. It continued as the capital of Vietnam until 1945, when the emperor abdicated and a new, communist regime was established in Ha Noi. The Citadel, an immense fortress, sits in decaying splendour on the north bank of the Perfume River, with moats on the other three sides. Some parts of it were severely damaged by American bombing, and the entire city was captured briefly during the Viet Cong Tet offensive. We spent an evening in a pleasant walk through the grounds, while Vietnamse boys played numerous games of soccer in the park. Within the Citadel

lies the Imperial Enclosure, where business of the state and Imperial functions were carried out, and within that the Forbidden Purple City which was reserved for the private life of the emperor. The only servants allowed inside the Forbidden Purple City were eunuchs, who posed no threat to the emperor's concubines. Now, all are welcome during visiting hours, including eunuchs, but the concubines are a distant memory.
Our second day here was devoted to a tour of the DMZ (The DeMilitarized Zone for you youngsters). This zone was on either side of the fictional border between northern and southern Vietnam. We saw a portion of the Ho Chi Minh Trail, the infiltration and supply route from the communist-held north. It looks very unimpressive now, but was the scene of a great deal of bombing and savage fighting as American troops attempted to interrupt or prevent the supplies and troops from making it further south. We also visited the site of the great seige at Khe Sanh, where American troops held out while suffering severe losses to keep a piece of real estate that had little military value, but was key to propaganda that illustrated American dominance. It's now mostly given over to the cultivation of rice, coffee and other crops, with a few bunkers and relics on display, including some captured American helicopters

and a transport plane. Locals sell momentos, like medals and dog tags, that have been dug out of the battlefield.
The DMZ is a complete misnomer, as it was one of the most heavily bombed areas of the war. A portion of it has been left as it was, with crters from bombs and shells overlapping on the scarred landscape. North of the DMZ is a vast tunnel network, parts of which have been maintained and are still accessible.

Local people used this network to shelter in during shelling and bombing, and it was part of the defensive works in the event that American troops should venture north. Some parts of this tunnel complex are over 23 meters deep. Over 200 people lived there full-time, and seven babies were born down in the tunnels.

The war that was fought against American dominance is now long past, and 37 years later this society looks like nothing that either side anticipated.

A Real Minefield - March 3, 2012

Today we had the sobering experience of a visit to the local War Museum, more properly an anti-war museum. Cambodia has had many wars, of course, but this museum commemorates the murderous regime of Pol Pot and the Khmer Rouge (1975-1978), the subsequent invasion by Vietnamese forces to put an end to that brutal regime, and the stubborn guerilla resistance put up by Pol Pot forces in the western, mountainous regions near the Thai border for years following the invasion (supported by the Americans). This resistance included planting countless thousands of land mines, which continue to kill and maim several hundred people every year.
Our guide was a 34 year old man who had lost an arm in a land mine explosion when he was 16 years old. He had been a child soldier, but was not in the military at the time of this tragedy, which killed several of his friends.
The museum was in a compound rather than a building, and had several small buildings where war relics are kept, including AK-47s, M-16s, and the many varieties of land mines,

which were planted in profuse numbers in this country. Our guide explained how all of these mines worked, including the Claymore, which was the particular type of mine that injured him. This mine is still available for purchase from American arms manufacturers.
Outside the small buildings were rusting tanks and artillery pieces of both American and Soviet manufacture, rocket launchers and other lethal hardware that has been recovered from battlefields in Cambodia. There was a grassy area that had a display of disarmed land mines, including near-invisible trip wires, and plastic mines that are as lethal as the metal ones, but the shrapnel from them does not show up on x-rays.
This chilling reminder of the consequences of modern warfare, and its brutal effects on non-combatants, makes me thankful that there has not been a war on Canadian soil since the American invasions of 1812-14.
Here, the after-effects of war are obvious. Most of a generation is missing. A Japanese NGO has helped some land mine survivors by teaching them to play traditional musical instruments. We saw a performance of one of these troupes of musicians, playing traditional instruments in order to feed their families.

The Temples of Angkor

These fabulous temples exceed those of Egypt and Greece in their scale and grandeur, and are at least their equal in craftsmanship. The first area we saw, Ankor Thom, is actually a fortified city of 10 square kilometres, built during the reign of Jayavarmin VII (1181-1219). The population is estimated to have been one million at its height. The houses, government buildings and palaces are all gone now, having been made of wood. Only the gods (and the King) were allowed to be housed in brick or stone, so only their temples have survived the centuries, along with the gates and walls of the great city.
Unfortunately, after the 15th century, Khmer civilization went into a decline, and the whole city gradually was abandoned. 400 years later, the jungle had reclaimed it, completely overgrowing the whole site. It was revived by the French colonialists, who reclaimed these great temples from the jungle once more. They painstakingly piled fallen stone blocks and recorded where they were found. Among many other things these records were cruelly destroyed by the Pol Pot regime, depriving Cambodians and the world of a method of reconstructing this great heritage.
We entered Angkor Thom by the 20 metre high South Gate, one of five gates to the city. The causeway across the moat leading to the gate has 54 stone gods to the left and 54 stone devils to the right

. After a drive further inside the city we reached the Bayon, having 54 towers that are each decorated with four faces of Avalokiteshvara,

a god whose face seemed to bear a close resemblance to that of Jayavarman VII himself!
It is beyond the scope of this recounting to relate all the myths shown in the statues and sculptures, and to describe the structural details of the many buildings along with their bas relief decorations. There are over 11,000 bas relief figures in this complex, occupying 1.2 kilometres.The few pictures I can post here will provide some small examples of the superb work that went into their creation.
Outside the Bayon is the 350 metre long Terrace of the Elepants,

a raised platform decorated for its whole length with life-sized stone elephants. It served as a giant reviewing stand for public ceremonies.
We next saw Ta Prom, another temple built at the behest of Jayavarma VII. It provides a graphic example of the power of the jungle to reclaim these temples. The awesome vitality and vigorous growth has lifted and encased blocks of delicately carved stone and had to be left intact at times for fear that to remove it would cause the original structures to collapse.

Some scenes from the film Lara Croft : Tomb Raider were filmed here.
Later in the afternoon we saw Angkor Wat, the largest religious structure in the world. We entered over a stone causeway that crossed a moat. My poor explanations would not do justice to this great monument so I'll just post a couple of pictures to show its grandeur.
It is incredible that these sites were largely unvisited until 1991, when the American bombing and the political turmoil in Cambodia had subsided and people began to visit as tourists. Now many thousands visit them every day, and the temples themselves are starting to show wear and tear from the pressures of this huge onslaught of tourism.

Siem Reap

This city has become a tourist mecca and is now overrun with tourist based businesses. Restaurants and bars are cheek by jowl with t-shirt stalls and clothing merchants. Tuk-tuk drivers (a sort of open rickshaw taxi pulled by a motor scooter) constantly ask if you want a ride, and massage spas, seemingly legitimate, offer their wares on every block. Someone has even created a t-shirt with a "no tuk-tuk, no massage today" message, spoofing the constant harassment of passers-by.
The sidewalks are regarded as convenient parking spots by car and tuk-tuk drivers, and no-one pays the slightest attention to traffic signs or stop lights. Traffic coming from all directions barely slows for intersections, and pedestrians wade cheerfully into this maelstrom, barely breaking stride as they cross. Drivers merely avoid them and continue on their way. Motorcycles dart into traffic from whatever direction, crossing lanes of oncoming traffic if that's what's required. Helmets seem to be optional. Foreigners are not allowed to rent motorcycles, which would be suicidal if permitted. The fact that we haven't yet seen an accident can only be attributed to some sort of divine intervention, in fact it's the best argument for the existence of God I have yet seen.
Markets function all day and

late into the night, and bars stay open until the small hours. Unique (to me) chilled soft drinks in unheard of flavours like grass jelly and chrysanthemum can be bought on the corner. There are many NGOs who try to support education, or orphans or other worthy causes by selling handicrafts, and some of those that are fairly traded will be featured at the Tea Room next season.
The French colonial period has left a cultural legacy that includes Le Malraux, a French Bistro style restauant named for a French leftist writer, intellectual and Gaullist cabinet minister. Interestingly, Andre Malraux spent part of his early 20s in Cambodia, investigating temples in the jungle. He was arrested at that time for theft of a bas relief from one of the temples.
The restaurant bearing his name, although a bit of an anachronism, served excellent food and had a decent wine list, mostly from Bordeaux and Burgundy, of course. Starters included pork terrine with salad, which was quite delicious. Barb had rack of lamb and scalloped potatoes en croute, and I had a pork rib chop, (shades of Au Pied de Cochon) and mashed green papaya, followed by an acceptable tarte au citron. The meal was quite delicious.
On the last day of our stay in Siem Reap, we found ourselves at Rosie's Guest House watching 4 Oscar winning movies. The copies we watched I'm sure were not pirated. There was free popcorn and 75 cent draft beer.

No Room to Spare - February 29

Our flight from Langkawi to Kuala Lumpur left late but was uneventful. We landed in KL after 10 pm, not having eaten dinner. As our plane for Siem Reap was leaving around 6:30 am, we had booked a cheap hotel near the airport and decided to eat at an airport concession, and then get some sleep.
After a boring meal, heavy on the rice, we took the shuttle to our hotel, one of the Tune chain. We entered our room and burst out laughing, it was literally one foot larger than the double bed on all sides. Two hangers were hanging on a hook on the wall in lieu of a closet, and a tiny TV screen perched precariously up in one corner. We had to put our luggage in the bathroom in order to get into the bed. Forsightfully we had paid extra for air conditioning, one towel, and a vanity pack which included a bar of soap and a disposable toothbrush. We set our alarm for 5:00 am and went to sleep, as there was no room to do anything else. I guess we got what we paid for, and not a centimeter more.
It didn't take long the next morning to leave the room, as we had no trouble finding the door. We made the flight with no trouble, looking forward to Siem Reap.

Langkawi

We sailed up the long, narrow channel into the marina, starting our new Langkawi adventure. The marina is part of Rebak Island Resort, a beautiful place on a small island 15 minutes away from Langkawi by ferry.
Michael and Sheila docked the boat with a precision based on long experience, while Barb and I watched. We checked into a room at the resort, and Michael and Sheila stayed aboard their boat in the marina. The room was lovely, and the grounds quite beautiful. The resort buildings were spread among the tropical forest, always within sight of the ocean. Hornbills, large birds with dramatic black and white plumage, and large bright yellow bills like a toucan, flew among the trees. Large lizards, mercifully shy of humans, could be seen in the undergrowth.
Michael and Sheila met several friends from other boats in the marina, as this yachties-friendly resort throws open its doors for them. People who arrive on yachts (us) get a reduced room rate. There is a special restaurant overlooking the marina for their use affectionately called "The Hard Dock Cafe". There are haul-out facilities if people need to repair or maintain their boats, as well as laundry and showers.
We rented a car and spent our first day in Langkawi driving around and reprovisioning the boat for Sheila and Michael's upcoming trip to Thailand. We went to a large Chinese grocery and a liquor warehouse (Langkawi is duty free), and, after much searching and debate, found a post office where we could mail some purchases back to Canada so we wouldn't have to carry them with us. We also toured Kuah Town, the main town on the island. We returned to the boat and had dinner that night at the Hard Dock with Michael and Sheila, and sampled some of the wine that we found at the warehouse, a lovely prosecco.
The next day we returned to Langkawi, this time to see the island. After a pastry and cappucino stop at Telaga Harbour, we drove to the highest peak, Mount Raya, literally among the clouds, and could see for miles in all directions, clouds permitting. (photo)

Next was the Craft and Culture Centre where we saw batiking and silk painting,lovely and creative work done by local artisans. We had a surprisingly good lunch at a concession in the parking lot. The next place we visited was the Laman Padi, or Rice Paddy Museum. Since I am the only one in the group who cares about museums, I was dropped off at the front gates and went in to see the 14 acre site on my own.
It was a strange experience. I went into the museum, looked at the exhibits in the Heritage Gallery, which had exhibits on rice growing from ancient times to the present. No-one was present besides myself, no ticket seller, guide or guard. When I had finished, I went back outside past the Artist Centre, where there was very little art and no artists or attendants of any kind. I went down to the rice paddy exhibits, where a variety of rice is grown, and saw the rice growing, but not one rice farmer. On my way out I passed two restaurants and a prayer room. I could hear prep noises from what I presumed to be the kitchen areas of the restaurants, but no staff appeared. The prayer room was equally empty. It seems that rice growing on Langkawi, although a widespread and common activity, is done anonymously.
The next morning we rose and had a large farewell breakfast with Michael and Sheila, as we were leaving on the 5:00 pm ferry to catch a flight to Kuala Lumpur, en route for Siem Reap.