We arrived home just after midnight and Karen, having to work early the next morning, went straight to bed. I hit the couch to watch some old House MD reruns. I was laying there enjoying the sarcastic wit of Dr. Gregory House, when I was alerted to a most peculiar sound coming from the kitchen. It was kind of like the sound a tire makes when you let the air out of it. I raised my considerable frame to a vertical state and went in to investigate. To my surprise and horror there was a steady stream of high pressure water shooting from the washing machine hook up. There is a bright orange lever attached to the nozzle so I turned it to the left. This action increased the force and the noise of the spray. I turned it back to where it was and called my landlord. It was 1:30 in the morning and I did my best to relay to him the importance of his immediate presence. After speaking for about two minutes I heard him say.. "Who is this?" I took a deep breath and tried again. This time dropping all subtlety. " Apartment 502! Upstairs. Emergency! Come up now!" He still was unable to grasp neither who I was or what I wanted. A few more attempts and I think I got my point across as he said he would be right up. The spray was getting bigger and I felt I could use another set of hands so I rushed to the bedroom and woke Karen. She was as coherent as the landlord for the first few seconds but came around much more quickly. She got up, obviously annoyed, and came with me to the kitchen. Her first instinct, as was mine, was to try the lever. She tried it a little too hard and the entire works came off of the wall effectively creating a fire hose in the middle of our kitchen. We were both instantly drenched with water and we shifted in to full on panic mode. The kitchen was filling up faster than the boiler room in that scene from Titanic, and we both had to fight off our instinct to flee to higher ground. The water had breached the kitchen and was now filling up the living room and making it's way toward the bedroom. Suddenly there was a knock at the door. I ran to let the landlord in, who immediately took control and found the turn off valve hidden behind the sink cabinet. We stood in three inches of water panting like overweight dogs on a hot day, and he had this air about him like I was a complete idiot for not just simply turning off the water as he had done. In my defence I looked for it and only found the one that turned the water on and off for the sink. Also, his delicate little Asian hands may have been able to reach behind the sink cabinet but I certainly would have drowned before squeezing my meatloaf sized fist behind that thing. The emergency was over as quickly as it began and I spent the next hour watching our landlord and his frazzled wife mop up our apartment. I would have much rather watched the ending of House.
Oh Well, at least I have it on DVD.
-Ed
Friday, March 28, 2008
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Saturday, March 15, 2008
My day as a Prisoner
Ladies and gentlemen I am writing this blog as a free man. I found myself held captive at a school called Ocean Language Center for eleven hours. It was my own fault to a degree, as I willingly went along with them at first. But, I think I am moving to fast. I should start at the beginning.
There is a small city about two hours outside Hanoi called Viet Vi and I had an interview to be the DOS (Director of Studies) at a school there. I had my interview and all went well. I even agreed to visit the school and check out the city. We made plans for the following day, I was to be picked up at 1pm by a driver that was going to take me to Viet Vi to visit the Ocean Language School. My first instinct was to call off the visit after I accepted a job at Oxford UK language school, but I was curious and this opportunity may have been more lucrative for me. I felt my first of many reservations when the driver that showed up was a Mai Linh taxi. This is a small hatch back taxi that Karen and I never take because they are so crooked. I said Hello and sat in the backseat. I put my MP3 player on and settled in for a long drive. About 25 minutes in to the trip the driver pulls over to the side of the road and gets out. We were in the middle of farmland and I was a little nervous about this turn of events. I was relieved to see he was just relieving himself on the side of the road. I stepped out and lit a cigarette. Upon his return, and seeing that I was smoking, the driver became very excited and proceeded to pull out his pack of cigarettes to show me that he too was afflicted with the dirty habit. He invited me to sit in the front seat. I obliged and he rolled down both windows and for the next hour and a half he would chain smoke as we made our way over the treacherous roads to Viet Vi.
At this point I will mention that I was wearing jeans and a t-shirt, as I knew it would be a long drive and I wanted to be comfortable, also, based ON the conversation of the day before, believed I was only going to view the school and take a tour of the city.
I arrived at Ocean Language School just after 3pm and was met by the entire staff, as if I was some kind of visiting celebrity. Everyone shook my hand and bowed as they smiled from ear to ear. I was taken on a tour of the school, which in all fairness was fairly nice, and then led into a back office where I would spend the next hour fighting to understand what the CEO and Manager were saying to me. There was a lot of pressure and it felt like I had walked into a timeshare presentation. The desperation was dripping off of the both of them as they talked of all the time and money they had invested into this school and how their very futures rested on being able to bring in an experienced foreigner to run the academic side of things. It was just after that when he explained that the students were so excited to have a real English teacher in the classroom tonight. ( This is the point where if this was a movie you would here the sound effect of a needle being scraped across a record as everything came to a stop) "Excuse me?" I asked him. " It sounded like you just said the students were excited about me teaching them this evening?" " Yes. Werry, Werry Happy to see you tonight." Well, this was not good. I was not prepared nor dressed to teach a class. I hadn't stepped one foot inside a classroom for three months. I made it clear I was not happy about this obvious ambush and he backpedalled by saying it would just be a hello, meet and greet sort of thing. It was then that he decided to tell me it was too late to drive me back to Hanoi tonight, so he would put me up in a hotel and drive me back tomorrow evening. That was simply not going to fly. "Absolutely not. Do you understand me? I am going home tonight. I am not prepared to spend an evening here." He seemed visibly disappointed but agreed I would go home this evening. " After you do 5:30 and 7:30 class. We will drive you home." There was a menacing tone to his voice that made it clear my safe passage back to Hanoi depended on my teaching these classes. After a few long moments of silence, his demeanor changed back into a friendly, smiley one and he announced that it was time to go to dinner. I cant say I had any appetite as the entire time he was talking to me he would randomly belch, filling the air with a rotten smoked meat smell that had absolutely turned my stomach. My rising gorge, notwithstanding, I was lead toward the taxi again, stopping only long enough to grab a bottle of French wine from a box behind his desk. We drove a couple of blocks to a decent looking restaurant, where he proceeded, after my admission of an allergy to seafood, to order potato salad and fried dumplings. He uncorked the wine and poured me a glass. We clinked glasses and as I brought the glass toward my face I knew there was something terribly wrong. It tasted like vinegar and I could barely swallow the little bit I had taken into my mouth. The taste must have gone completely unnoticed by my host as he slurped noisily from the glass before swallowing and saying " It's good isn't it?" " Mmm Hmm." I managed blinking away the tears. I pretended to sip my wine as I attempted to eat potato salad with chopsticks. Finally the horrible meal was over and we made our way back to the school. My meet and greet had turned into me doing the first hour and the Vietnamese teacher doing the second. Completely unprepared I walked into that classroom and rocked the house. If he hadn't wanted me with every fibre of his being before that he definitely did now. I had an hour to kill before the next class, so I went for a walk and found an Internet cafe.
At 7:30 I was ushered into an adult class who were on their second English class and could speak no English at all passed Hello and Goodbye. Of course, nobody had told me this and after a ten minute introduction where I outlined my recent history and my origins. There was nothing but blank stares and the distant sounds of frogs and crickets floating in through the open window.
" What level students are these?" I leaned over and whispered to my host.
" This only second class." He beamed.
" So they didn't understand a word I just said, did they?"
" Oh No." still smiling.
" Take me out of here." I demanded.
Out in the hallway he told me that was not the actual class I was teaching, he just wanted them to see me. I then went on to teach forty minutes to adults that were about mid level and could understand the words that were coming out of my mouth.
Finally it was 8:30 and I made a bee line for the taxi. The manager caught me as I was fleeing and started to make many plans for the near future. " We will pick you up same time on Monday. Stay the week and we will drive you home on Friday."
" Yeah, sure. sure. absolutely. 100%" I would have agreed to anything at this point, I was so desperate to escape.
I got in to the taxi and the manager said "Wait, wait one minute." and ran back into the school.
" For the love of God, drive man!" I demanded to my driver, but he just gave me a puzzled look.
The manager returned with a bottle of the same awful wine we had at dinner and offered it to me through the open window. The driver and the manager then spoke at length in Vietnamese about money, and finally we were off. We were driving for about five minutes when the driver shocked me with English as he leaned over and said. "Very bad company. They, all day, no food or drink for me. Very bad company."
" Your preaching to the choir, brother." I responded.
He said he was really hungry and by the time we got back to Hanoi there would be no place open for him to eat. I told him to stop and eat somewhere. So that is how I found myself at a roadside stall after ten pm, drinking Bia Hanoi, and watching my driver slurp Beef Pho noisily as we bonded over the mutual screwing we both received at the hands of Ocean Language School.
It was an experience I shall not soon forget and a very valuable lesson learned.
Till next time, Take 'er easy.
Ed
There is a small city about two hours outside Hanoi called Viet Vi and I had an interview to be the DOS (Director of Studies) at a school there. I had my interview and all went well. I even agreed to visit the school and check out the city. We made plans for the following day, I was to be picked up at 1pm by a driver that was going to take me to Viet Vi to visit the Ocean Language School. My first instinct was to call off the visit after I accepted a job at Oxford UK language school, but I was curious and this opportunity may have been more lucrative for me. I felt my first of many reservations when the driver that showed up was a Mai Linh taxi. This is a small hatch back taxi that Karen and I never take because they are so crooked. I said Hello and sat in the backseat. I put my MP3 player on and settled in for a long drive. About 25 minutes in to the trip the driver pulls over to the side of the road and gets out. We were in the middle of farmland and I was a little nervous about this turn of events. I was relieved to see he was just relieving himself on the side of the road. I stepped out and lit a cigarette. Upon his return, and seeing that I was smoking, the driver became very excited and proceeded to pull out his pack of cigarettes to show me that he too was afflicted with the dirty habit. He invited me to sit in the front seat. I obliged and he rolled down both windows and for the next hour and a half he would chain smoke as we made our way over the treacherous roads to Viet Vi.
At this point I will mention that I was wearing jeans and a t-shirt, as I knew it would be a long drive and I wanted to be comfortable, also, based ON the conversation of the day before, believed I was only going to view the school and take a tour of the city.
I arrived at Ocean Language School just after 3pm and was met by the entire staff, as if I was some kind of visiting celebrity. Everyone shook my hand and bowed as they smiled from ear to ear. I was taken on a tour of the school, which in all fairness was fairly nice, and then led into a back office where I would spend the next hour fighting to understand what the CEO and Manager were saying to me. There was a lot of pressure and it felt like I had walked into a timeshare presentation. The desperation was dripping off of the both of them as they talked of all the time and money they had invested into this school and how their very futures rested on being able to bring in an experienced foreigner to run the academic side of things. It was just after that when he explained that the students were so excited to have a real English teacher in the classroom tonight. ( This is the point where if this was a movie you would here the sound effect of a needle being scraped across a record as everything came to a stop) "Excuse me?" I asked him. " It sounded like you just said the students were excited about me teaching them this evening?" " Yes. Werry, Werry Happy to see you tonight." Well, this was not good. I was not prepared nor dressed to teach a class. I hadn't stepped one foot inside a classroom for three months. I made it clear I was not happy about this obvious ambush and he backpedalled by saying it would just be a hello, meet and greet sort of thing. It was then that he decided to tell me it was too late to drive me back to Hanoi tonight, so he would put me up in a hotel and drive me back tomorrow evening. That was simply not going to fly. "Absolutely not. Do you understand me? I am going home tonight. I am not prepared to spend an evening here." He seemed visibly disappointed but agreed I would go home this evening. " After you do 5:30 and 7:30 class. We will drive you home." There was a menacing tone to his voice that made it clear my safe passage back to Hanoi depended on my teaching these classes. After a few long moments of silence, his demeanor changed back into a friendly, smiley one and he announced that it was time to go to dinner. I cant say I had any appetite as the entire time he was talking to me he would randomly belch, filling the air with a rotten smoked meat smell that had absolutely turned my stomach. My rising gorge, notwithstanding, I was lead toward the taxi again, stopping only long enough to grab a bottle of French wine from a box behind his desk. We drove a couple of blocks to a decent looking restaurant, where he proceeded, after my admission of an allergy to seafood, to order potato salad and fried dumplings. He uncorked the wine and poured me a glass. We clinked glasses and as I brought the glass toward my face I knew there was something terribly wrong. It tasted like vinegar and I could barely swallow the little bit I had taken into my mouth. The taste must have gone completely unnoticed by my host as he slurped noisily from the glass before swallowing and saying " It's good isn't it?" " Mmm Hmm." I managed blinking away the tears. I pretended to sip my wine as I attempted to eat potato salad with chopsticks. Finally the horrible meal was over and we made our way back to the school. My meet and greet had turned into me doing the first hour and the Vietnamese teacher doing the second. Completely unprepared I walked into that classroom and rocked the house. If he hadn't wanted me with every fibre of his being before that he definitely did now. I had an hour to kill before the next class, so I went for a walk and found an Internet cafe.
At 7:30 I was ushered into an adult class who were on their second English class and could speak no English at all passed Hello and Goodbye. Of course, nobody had told me this and after a ten minute introduction where I outlined my recent history and my origins. There was nothing but blank stares and the distant sounds of frogs and crickets floating in through the open window.
" What level students are these?" I leaned over and whispered to my host.
" This only second class." He beamed.
" So they didn't understand a word I just said, did they?"
" Oh No." still smiling.
" Take me out of here." I demanded.
Out in the hallway he told me that was not the actual class I was teaching, he just wanted them to see me. I then went on to teach forty minutes to adults that were about mid level and could understand the words that were coming out of my mouth.
Finally it was 8:30 and I made a bee line for the taxi. The manager caught me as I was fleeing and started to make many plans for the near future. " We will pick you up same time on Monday. Stay the week and we will drive you home on Friday."
" Yeah, sure. sure. absolutely. 100%" I would have agreed to anything at this point, I was so desperate to escape.
I got in to the taxi and the manager said "Wait, wait one minute." and ran back into the school.
" For the love of God, drive man!" I demanded to my driver, but he just gave me a puzzled look.
The manager returned with a bottle of the same awful wine we had at dinner and offered it to me through the open window. The driver and the manager then spoke at length in Vietnamese about money, and finally we were off. We were driving for about five minutes when the driver shocked me with English as he leaned over and said. "Very bad company. They, all day, no food or drink for me. Very bad company."
" Your preaching to the choir, brother." I responded.
He said he was really hungry and by the time we got back to Hanoi there would be no place open for him to eat. I told him to stop and eat somewhere. So that is how I found myself at a roadside stall after ten pm, drinking Bia Hanoi, and watching my driver slurp Beef Pho noisily as we bonded over the mutual screwing we both received at the hands of Ocean Language School.
It was an experience I shall not soon forget and a very valuable lesson learned.
Till next time, Take 'er easy.
Ed
Monday, March 03, 2008
Monday, February 25, 2008
Our New Apartment
Here we are, back again posting about another new domicile. I have lost track of the amount of houses, flats and apartments we have lived in over the past six years. The long wait is over, we moved in to our new place over the weekend. It is a fifth floor walk up and my legs feel like I ran the Boston Marathon. We will take a little video to show off the new diggs, but essentially it is a one bedroom apartment with a bedroom, (shocking eh?) kitchen and living room. The view is worth mentioning as it looks over the community of Tay Ho(West Lake) and the lake itself. It still has that new car smell as the paint was barely dry when we moved in. There are also brand new appliances that make us happy and the couch is not wicker or rosewood, so that is something. A Japanese style bed and huge closet make up the bedroom with a computer desk in the corner. All and all I am very happy with it. The only problem is they are renovating the building right next to us and it is 10 hours of construction daily until completed. Oh well, you can't have everything.
Peace out yo!
Ed
Peace out yo!
Ed
Thursday, February 21, 2008
House Hunting in Hanoi
TET is a strange and unusual holiday that all but shuts down Hanoi for almost two weeks. This left it impossible for me to pursue employment or housing for that period of time. Also, the real estate situation is unique as well. How it works here is that you need an agent that is your go-between lessors and lessees. Without an agent there is no way to view or acquire a place to live. Also, owners have to be licensed to rent to foreigners and the agent makes sure everything is on the up and up. In the past month we have gone through 7 different agents and seen a bevy of overpriced, wholly unappealing flats, apartments and houses for rent. The utter rubbish we have been exposed to in potential living arrangements has had a debilitating effect on both myself and Karen. It has been one bitterly disappointing showing after another. The expectations of these lessors are so inflated that we have walked out of showings laughing out loud at prices asked for small one bedroom apartments throughout the city. So discouraging has this effort been, that I am ready to simply pack in the search and continue to live in the hotel. As of this writing we have come close once to paying too much for a decent, but small, apartment that was snatched away from us at the last moment. Right now we are no farther ahead than we were when we walked off of the plane and into the taxi a whole month ago. Pray for us. We need all the help we can get.
-Ed
-Ed
The Re-Arrival
We have been back in Hanoi for exactly one month today. We arrived late at night on Jan 21st and within minutes encountered our first example of ineptitude by the Vietnamese. We went to a booking agent in the lobby of the airport to obtain transportation and lodging. We dickered over prices until finally settling on a price for a hotel (18$) and a taxi to Hanoi Centre (10$). We had discussed a couple of different hotels before settling for the one we did. She wrote the name of the hotel on our receipt and the address for the driver. We loaded our luggage into the taxi and settled in for the 30 minute drive to the Old Quarter. After thirty minutes of non-stop honking from our driver we found ourselves in front of the hotel. We showed the receipt to the girl at the front desk and she nodded that this was the place. We unloaded our baggage into their foyer and walked up to the front desk, passport and receipt in hand. Upon closer inspection by the staff they noticed the name of the hotel was different and we were in fact, not at the right hotel. After thirteen hours of traveling we were not impressed with this revelation. They apologized for the misunderstanding and asked us to come back and stay with them some other time. They also advised us their rate was 15$. We assured them we would be back the next day. We called another taxi and waited about ten minutes for it to show up. We loaded our bags into the back and gave him the proper address which turned out to be exactly a block and a half away. Once again we unloaded our baggage and checked in to the proper hotel. The room, of course, was on the top floor of a five floor building that lacked an elevator. We lugged our luggage up the five floors, took showers and immediately went to sleep.
The next day Karen went off to work at 7:30 am and I checked out of the hotel, packed our luggage into a taxi and drove the block and a half back to the first hotel to save a few bucks a day in rate. Once again I found myself on the fifth floor, but with nobody to help me lug the luggage. After settling in to the hotel, I called Danny, our Motorbike lessor, and set up a time for him to drop off the bikes. He advised he would drop mine off that very day but we had to wait for Karen's automatic as he didn't have any on hand. He dropped off the bike and the Hotel manager informed me he would have to charge a dollar a day for parking for the bike. The hotel was now 16$ per night. The rest of that day and evening went by without any major problems. The next day I got a call from Danny saying he had a MIO for Karen. He dropped it off at the hotel and the manager announced it was a dollar per bike(17$). Another day went by and we had a late dinner keeping us out until almost ten O'clock. When we arrived back at the hotel the owner was there and asked to talk to us. He informed us that he would have to ask us to leave the hotel because the staff quoted a price that was too low. He also said they didn't have room for two bikes. This turned out to be utter crap, as he was just offered more money for the room from other tourists. Once again, Karen went to work in the morning and I went out looking for Hotel Rooms. Four hours and many viewings(always on the top floor), I was exhausted and finally decided on the Sunflower Hotel, where we had stayed for ten days before we left. Their price (20$) per night. I went back to the other hotel and packed up all of our stuff once again and carried it alone down five flights of stairs. I called a taxi and headed over to the Sunflower. Upon arrival there, the staff came out and grabbed my bags and brought them up to the fourth floor, room 401 where we have been ever since.
Welcome back Merlins.
-Ed
The next day Karen went off to work at 7:30 am and I checked out of the hotel, packed our luggage into a taxi and drove the block and a half back to the first hotel to save a few bucks a day in rate. Once again I found myself on the fifth floor, but with nobody to help me lug the luggage. After settling in to the hotel, I called Danny, our Motorbike lessor, and set up a time for him to drop off the bikes. He advised he would drop mine off that very day but we had to wait for Karen's automatic as he didn't have any on hand. He dropped off the bike and the Hotel manager informed me he would have to charge a dollar a day for parking for the bike. The hotel was now 16$ per night. The rest of that day and evening went by without any major problems. The next day I got a call from Danny saying he had a MIO for Karen. He dropped it off at the hotel and the manager announced it was a dollar per bike(17$). Another day went by and we had a late dinner keeping us out until almost ten O'clock. When we arrived back at the hotel the owner was there and asked to talk to us. He informed us that he would have to ask us to leave the hotel because the staff quoted a price that was too low. He also said they didn't have room for two bikes. This turned out to be utter crap, as he was just offered more money for the room from other tourists. Once again, Karen went to work in the morning and I went out looking for Hotel Rooms. Four hours and many viewings(always on the top floor), I was exhausted and finally decided on the Sunflower Hotel, where we had stayed for ten days before we left. Their price (20$) per night. I went back to the other hotel and packed up all of our stuff once again and carried it alone down five flights of stairs. I called a taxi and headed over to the Sunflower. Upon arrival there, the staff came out and grabbed my bags and brought them up to the fourth floor, room 401 where we have been ever since.
Welcome back Merlins.
-Ed
Thursday, January 31, 2008
The Strange and Wonderful Trip
Oh Canada, how I miss you already. It was a wonderful month surrounded by family and friends. We got to meet little “Hank” Henry Chisholm and share his first ride in a car. I’d like to thank Ratty Dave and his wonderful wife Judie for putting us up at a most inconvenient time for them. My parents who fed and housed us for a full month and Karen’s parents as well for taking us in and feeding us well. Most of all, I have to mention the few weeks I got to spend with my beautiful little girl, Emma. I miss you so much already.
Christmas Eve. Christmas Day, Boxing day with the family and New Years at Raddie’s. We love you all and thank everyone for making it such a memorable holiday for us. We have had to say goodbye three times over the last few years but this one was definitely the hardest.
We left Canada on January 13th and prepared ourselves for another arduous two day journey across the globe. I must say, however, that the trip back went a lot more smoothly than the trip to Canada. The 13 hours in Heathrow airport was a little rough, but no more that what was expected.
So, enough about the trip, it is the destination that I want to talk about. We landed in Phuket at 8 O’ Clock PM on Jan 15th. It was wonderfully warm after a month in Canada and we couldn’t wait to get started on our 5 days on the beach. After two hours in a mini van with a lot of European tourists we were the last to be dropped off on Kata Beach. The hotel was nice and comfortable but after the trip we were so tired we could have slept at Heathrow again and gotten a proper eight hours. The next five days were awesome. Kata Beach in Phuket may have just replace Playa Del Carmen, Mexico as the answer to the “What is your favorite vacation destination?” that so many websites ask as a security question. Muay Thai boxing, Snorkeling and lots of sunshine filled the small but mighty vacation that rounded out our Holiday Excursion.
Now we are back in Hanoi where I am colder than I ever was in Nova Scotia, and there is no escape from the awful chill that finds it’s way in to your bones and sinks it’s fingers into the marrow. We are currently living in the Sunflower Hotel on 34 Hang Ga Street in the Old Quarter of Hanoi, Vietnam. We have tried to find an apartment but apparently “Charlie” just shuts down the weeks leading up to TET and we have not been able to get any help from agents who have already switched to TET mode and do not want to work. So it looks like we may be spending the month here in the hotel. I have tried tentatively to find work but as with the real estate situation there is not much going on now. It looks like I will be unemployed until after TET.
So, loyal readers, I will sign out saying we are digging in for a long wet, cold winter in Hanoi, and I will keep you posted if anything interesting happens.
Happy New Year.
-Ed
P.S. The video has finally posted below.
Christmas Eve. Christmas Day, Boxing day with the family and New Years at Raddie’s. We love you all and thank everyone for making it such a memorable holiday for us. We have had to say goodbye three times over the last few years but this one was definitely the hardest.
We left Canada on January 13th and prepared ourselves for another arduous two day journey across the globe. I must say, however, that the trip back went a lot more smoothly than the trip to Canada. The 13 hours in Heathrow airport was a little rough, but no more that what was expected.
So, enough about the trip, it is the destination that I want to talk about. We landed in Phuket at 8 O’ Clock PM on Jan 15th. It was wonderfully warm after a month in Canada and we couldn’t wait to get started on our 5 days on the beach. After two hours in a mini van with a lot of European tourists we were the last to be dropped off on Kata Beach. The hotel was nice and comfortable but after the trip we were so tired we could have slept at Heathrow again and gotten a proper eight hours. The next five days were awesome. Kata Beach in Phuket may have just replace Playa Del Carmen, Mexico as the answer to the “What is your favorite vacation destination?” that so many websites ask as a security question. Muay Thai boxing, Snorkeling and lots of sunshine filled the small but mighty vacation that rounded out our Holiday Excursion.
Now we are back in Hanoi where I am colder than I ever was in Nova Scotia, and there is no escape from the awful chill that finds it’s way in to your bones and sinks it’s fingers into the marrow. We are currently living in the Sunflower Hotel on 34 Hang Ga Street in the Old Quarter of Hanoi, Vietnam. We have tried to find an apartment but apparently “Charlie” just shuts down the weeks leading up to TET and we have not been able to get any help from agents who have already switched to TET mode and do not want to work. So it looks like we may be spending the month here in the hotel. I have tried tentatively to find work but as with the real estate situation there is not much going on now. It looks like I will be unemployed until after TET.
So, loyal readers, I will sign out saying we are digging in for a long wet, cold winter in Hanoi, and I will keep you posted if anything interesting happens.
Happy New Year.
-Ed
P.S. The video has finally posted below.
Monday, December 17, 2007
The Great X-mas Caper
As a lot of you already know, the Christmas trip to Thailand was nothing but a ruse to trick our unsuspecting parents into believing we had Holiday plans for Christmas, when in fact, we had plans to come home to Nova Scotia and surprise them.
Act One: The Departure
This was the single most hellish spot of traveling I have ever done. We left Vietnam at 6am for a short flight to Bangkok, Thailand. There we were expecting a stopover of 13 and a half hours. We had mentally prepared ourselves for this wait so it wasn’t too bad. Then, the unthinkable, our flight was delayed. We would now be departing at 4am, another 3 and a half hours beyond our 13 and a half, for a total of 17hours. (For those of you who struggle with math.) There were some mechanical problems with our plane and they had to replace it. We settled into our seats on Qantas flight Q801 and flew for thirteen hours to London. OK so that’s not too bad….but then….
Act 2: The Missed Flight.
We arrive at Heathrow airport in London, England at 11am and our flight is scheduled for departure at 11:15. There is no way for us to catch that flight. More stopover time is accrued while we beg and plead with Air Canada to get us on their next available flight to Eastern Canada. A very nice British woman took care of us and found us a flight to Montreal and then after a short three hour stop-over, onward to Halifax. We thanked her and made our way to our departure gate. I will also mention at this point that Karen had an awful head cold and was quite congested. The touchdown in Heathrow proved to be very painful in her ears and we purchased earplugs for 25 USD at a drugstore in the airport. Yes, you read that correctly, 25$! A few short hours later we found ourselves sitting on an Air Canada plane, waiting to begin our 7 and a half hour flight to Montreal, Canada. We were getting closer and closer.
Act 3: Our Home on Patriot Land
We touch down in Montreal and go through customs. Air Canada staff assures us that they have no idea where our bags will turn up as our bags were tagged when we were in Thailand, before we missed our flight, and were probably in Halifax now. Of course, they couldn’t be sure and it was in our best interest to check baggage claim in Montreal just to be on the safe side. Sure enough, Karen’s bright red bag came tumbling down the belt in Montreal but there was no sign of mine. We stood around like goons until the last bag was shat out of the rubber curtain, and then made our way to the lost baggage counter. Once again, we were assured my bag was fine and probably waiting for me in Halifax, as there was no real reason for Karen’s bag to have shown up in Montreal we should just consider ourselves lucky. OK, Fair enough. We push our way on to a little airbus for the one and a half hour flight to Halifax.
I will also note that Raddie Dave, who was still dizzy over the arrival of his first born son Peter Henry “Hank” Chisholm, with his wife Judy, had arrived at the Halifax airport at 2pm, our original arrival time but a full 7 hours too early after our delays.
Act 4: The Arrival
We arrived at YZH, Halifax International Airport at 9pm on Tuesday, Dec 11. We had sent the RDC a message saying that we would be arriving at 9 instead of 2, but being at the hospital all day, he did not get that message. Dave and Judie were the only two people that knew we were coming so we found some Canadian quarters and made a quick call to Dave’s cell phone. He was at the IWK with his wife and his new baby who were just being released. He said he would swing by the airport to pick us up and take us back to their place. With that taken care of, we were free to go and pick up my bag at baggage claim. This, of course, was not to be. The bag was lost. I did a lost baggage report and made my way outside for my first cigarette in almost 40 hours. I was wearing sandals and a pullover “hoodie” sweatshirt while I stood shivering on the sidewalk. I was half done my cigarette when Dave and Judie pulled up in their Volvo and whisked us back to their house where we spent our first evening in Canada in a year and a half.
We had a good nights sleep and took a taxi to downtown Dartmouth from Eastern Passage and prepared to surprise the hell out of my parents. I will end this blog here, as we have video of the surprise and I will post that separately. So, in conclusion, we are back in the Fax and ready for a memorable Christmas and New Years. We look forward to seeing all of our friends and family. If you are not in Nova Scotia this Christmas season, Have a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.
Love,
Ed & Karen
Act One: The Departure
This was the single most hellish spot of traveling I have ever done. We left Vietnam at 6am for a short flight to Bangkok, Thailand. There we were expecting a stopover of 13 and a half hours. We had mentally prepared ourselves for this wait so it wasn’t too bad. Then, the unthinkable, our flight was delayed. We would now be departing at 4am, another 3 and a half hours beyond our 13 and a half, for a total of 17hours. (For those of you who struggle with math.) There were some mechanical problems with our plane and they had to replace it. We settled into our seats on Qantas flight Q801 and flew for thirteen hours to London. OK so that’s not too bad….but then….
Act 2: The Missed Flight.
We arrive at Heathrow airport in London, England at 11am and our flight is scheduled for departure at 11:15. There is no way for us to catch that flight. More stopover time is accrued while we beg and plead with Air Canada to get us on their next available flight to Eastern Canada. A very nice British woman took care of us and found us a flight to Montreal and then after a short three hour stop-over, onward to Halifax. We thanked her and made our way to our departure gate. I will also mention at this point that Karen had an awful head cold and was quite congested. The touchdown in Heathrow proved to be very painful in her ears and we purchased earplugs for 25 USD at a drugstore in the airport. Yes, you read that correctly, 25$! A few short hours later we found ourselves sitting on an Air Canada plane, waiting to begin our 7 and a half hour flight to Montreal, Canada. We were getting closer and closer.
Act 3: Our Home on Patriot Land
We touch down in Montreal and go through customs. Air Canada staff assures us that they have no idea where our bags will turn up as our bags were tagged when we were in Thailand, before we missed our flight, and were probably in Halifax now. Of course, they couldn’t be sure and it was in our best interest to check baggage claim in Montreal just to be on the safe side. Sure enough, Karen’s bright red bag came tumbling down the belt in Montreal but there was no sign of mine. We stood around like goons until the last bag was shat out of the rubber curtain, and then made our way to the lost baggage counter. Once again, we were assured my bag was fine and probably waiting for me in Halifax, as there was no real reason for Karen’s bag to have shown up in Montreal we should just consider ourselves lucky. OK, Fair enough. We push our way on to a little airbus for the one and a half hour flight to Halifax.
I will also note that Raddie Dave, who was still dizzy over the arrival of his first born son Peter Henry “Hank” Chisholm, with his wife Judy, had arrived at the Halifax airport at 2pm, our original arrival time but a full 7 hours too early after our delays.
Act 4: The Arrival
We arrived at YZH, Halifax International Airport at 9pm on Tuesday, Dec 11. We had sent the RDC a message saying that we would be arriving at 9 instead of 2, but being at the hospital all day, he did not get that message. Dave and Judie were the only two people that knew we were coming so we found some Canadian quarters and made a quick call to Dave’s cell phone. He was at the IWK with his wife and his new baby who were just being released. He said he would swing by the airport to pick us up and take us back to their place. With that taken care of, we were free to go and pick up my bag at baggage claim. This, of course, was not to be. The bag was lost. I did a lost baggage report and made my way outside for my first cigarette in almost 40 hours. I was wearing sandals and a pullover “hoodie” sweatshirt while I stood shivering on the sidewalk. I was half done my cigarette when Dave and Judie pulled up in their Volvo and whisked us back to their house where we spent our first evening in Canada in a year and a half.
We had a good nights sleep and took a taxi to downtown Dartmouth from Eastern Passage and prepared to surprise the hell out of my parents. I will end this blog here, as we have video of the surprise and I will post that separately. So, in conclusion, we are back in the Fax and ready for a memorable Christmas and New Years. We look forward to seeing all of our friends and family. If you are not in Nova Scotia this Christmas season, Have a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.
Love,
Ed & Karen
Sunday, December 02, 2007
1 Week
One week, seven short days, 168 hours or 10080 minutes until take-off. For our third Christmas away from home, we decided to do it right. We are spending a month in Phuket Thialand. "Phuket....Phuket......Why does that sound so familiar?" I can hear some of you pondering. That is because Phuket was the place utterly devastated by the Tsunami four years ago on Boxing day. That is correct, we will be at ground zero on the fourth anniversary of that horrible disaster. Don't worry, however, as the saying goes..Lightning never strikes twice, or some such rubbish. Just to be on the safe side, we will be looking for a room on the fifth or sixth floor. The tsunami hit last time just before 7 am, and we would have slept through that anyway. You can count on the fact that we wouldn't have been up and on the beach that early. We don't know what to expect being there on the anniversary of that awful day, but it should be an experience.
As for those of you in Canada and elsewhere that will be celebrating Christmas and New Year without us once again. We miss you all and we will be thinking about you while digging our toes in the sand and opening our presents on the beach with the yuletide waves crashing on the shore. It will be different this year, that's for sure. It was too depressing the last couple of years hanging around our house on Christmas, so what better way to take our minds off the fact that we will not have our friends and family around us, than loafing on a beach drinking copious amounts of Singha and eating like royalty for the holidays.
God Bless us.....Everyone.
Merry Christmas y'all.
-Peace.
As for those of you in Canada and elsewhere that will be celebrating Christmas and New Year without us once again. We miss you all and we will be thinking about you while digging our toes in the sand and opening our presents on the beach with the yuletide waves crashing on the shore. It will be different this year, that's for sure. It was too depressing the last couple of years hanging around our house on Christmas, so what better way to take our minds off the fact that we will not have our friends and family around us, than loafing on a beach drinking copious amounts of Singha and eating like royalty for the holidays.
God Bless us.....Everyone.
Merry Christmas y'all.
-Peace.
Friday, November 23, 2007
Getting Antsy
I am starting to get very impatient with my wait for Thailand. I shuffle to work everyday and teach classes I have grown to hate, just biding my time until we leave for Thailand. 30 glorious days with no work, I begin shaking all over in anticipation at the mere mention of it. I had a conversation with Karen last night about teaching. I made an offhand remark about how much I hate it. She responded with " See I told you it would get to you after a while" or something like that, and then I clarified my statement a little further. Teaching is the best job I have ever had, I just hate anything I have to do for someone else, regardless of how rewarding or pleasant I may find it. I will only ever be truly satisfied working for myself. It actually physically disturbs me to make money for other people. Maybe I will open my own school and then I would immediately love teaching again.
The only thing getting me through these classes is closing my eyes and thinking about the beaches of Phuket and how much I am going to love spending my days on the beach with a good book, soaking up the sunshine and taking dips in the cool green waters. Ice cold Singha resting on my chest as I sway from the ocean breeze in a ratty old hammock, the only worry on my mind being how long the hammock will actually support my weight, before crashing down into the sand below.
Seventeen more sleeps people. Seventeen more sleeps.
Bye for now,
Ed
The only thing getting me through these classes is closing my eyes and thinking about the beaches of Phuket and how much I am going to love spending my days on the beach with a good book, soaking up the sunshine and taking dips in the cool green waters. Ice cold Singha resting on my chest as I sway from the ocean breeze in a ratty old hammock, the only worry on my mind being how long the hammock will actually support my weight, before crashing down into the sand below.
Seventeen more sleeps people. Seventeen more sleeps.
Bye for now,
Ed
Monday, November 19, 2007
Monday afternoon blabberings
I’m sitting in a café right now writing on my laptop and enjoying the warm mid-November weather in Hanoi. The windows are all open to the busy street noise of Hoan Kiem District’s Cathedral square and a throng of school children are playing noisily in the parking lot of St. Josephs Cathedral. It is Quarter past five and the traffic and constant honking of motorbikes and taxi’s is barely perceptible to me now after fourteen months in Hanoi.
I have never felt about anything the way I feel about Hanoi. I hate it so much some days that I want to explode venom and fury over all who surround me like Chuck Norris in “Braddock- Missing in Action part 1” Then there are days like today, where the simple beauty of this confounded place is almost more than I can stand. Things are very simple here, and I know no matter how I feel about this place on any given day, I will miss it for the rest of my life when I leave.
Taiwan was also a beautiful place full of wonder and excitement, but it didn’t hold a candle to Hanoi for the sheer mystique and comfortable confusion that is offered by Hanoi. It is so loud that it is like a frantic emotion that blankets the whole place. The people scream and yell in to their cell phones and at each other on the street, not out of anger but because that is just how it is here. The constant horn blasting by every vehicle on the road in the maddening irony of the uselessness of the horn, by way of it’s intended purpose, being used in this manner.
The people, so brash, rude and abrasive, yet in a completely innocent way, simply don’t know any better or are incapable of behaving any other way. They are so childlike in their comments and exclaimed noises as a big Westerner walks by, so annoying to me before, simply makes me smile now. Vietnam is their country and I am just a visitor here. These people in the North have sweat, bled, died and suffered for their beloved homeland. They fought off the American invasion in the 60’s and 70’s and claimed somewhat of a victory over the most powerful country in the world. This empty victory left them in a state of such destruction and absolute poverty that they would spend the next thirty years trying to recover. Now that they are just finally starting to stand on their own feet after the American War, as they call it, are submitting of their own free will to the force of the West on what they believe to be their terms.
To be here in Hanoi as they celebrate the 1000 anniversary of this city is truly something to behold and experience. The students that I teach are hungry for education outside of the system in Vietnam that spends the first two years of their university education focusing on Marxist and Leninist philosophy. I can see the change the future holds for Vietnam in their faces and wish I could be here to see it happen. But, I will leave before anything really significant happens here, looking on fondly from wherever I find myself, at this place that I will always consider a second home. I must say that living in Vietnam right now feels like truly living, and not just wiling away the days in the comfort of my Nova Scotia, succumbing to age and indifference. These are truly the days that I will look back upon from behind the cloudy eyes of an old man, and remember the time in my life when I felt the most alive.
I always had a distaste for the people that find religion or spiritual guidance in any form and then try and force it upon other people as though it would be as beneficial for all as it was for them. I would just like to say to anyone still reading this, that if you have not done it yet, get out of your home and move around this planet a little. Stretch your legs and experience something brand new. It will change you to your very core. I miss my friends and family more than I can adequately express here on this blog, but I feel like I belong here, right now. I have my good days and bad days in this country and today is definitely a good day. I will always be grateful to Hanoi for what it has done to change me.
-Ed
P.S.
Sorry if I got a little spirited, I am a little drunk. :)
I have never felt about anything the way I feel about Hanoi. I hate it so much some days that I want to explode venom and fury over all who surround me like Chuck Norris in “Braddock- Missing in Action part 1” Then there are days like today, where the simple beauty of this confounded place is almost more than I can stand. Things are very simple here, and I know no matter how I feel about this place on any given day, I will miss it for the rest of my life when I leave.
Taiwan was also a beautiful place full of wonder and excitement, but it didn’t hold a candle to Hanoi for the sheer mystique and comfortable confusion that is offered by Hanoi. It is so loud that it is like a frantic emotion that blankets the whole place. The people scream and yell in to their cell phones and at each other on the street, not out of anger but because that is just how it is here. The constant horn blasting by every vehicle on the road in the maddening irony of the uselessness of the horn, by way of it’s intended purpose, being used in this manner.
The people, so brash, rude and abrasive, yet in a completely innocent way, simply don’t know any better or are incapable of behaving any other way. They are so childlike in their comments and exclaimed noises as a big Westerner walks by, so annoying to me before, simply makes me smile now. Vietnam is their country and I am just a visitor here. These people in the North have sweat, bled, died and suffered for their beloved homeland. They fought off the American invasion in the 60’s and 70’s and claimed somewhat of a victory over the most powerful country in the world. This empty victory left them in a state of such destruction and absolute poverty that they would spend the next thirty years trying to recover. Now that they are just finally starting to stand on their own feet after the American War, as they call it, are submitting of their own free will to the force of the West on what they believe to be their terms.
To be here in Hanoi as they celebrate the 1000 anniversary of this city is truly something to behold and experience. The students that I teach are hungry for education outside of the system in Vietnam that spends the first two years of their university education focusing on Marxist and Leninist philosophy. I can see the change the future holds for Vietnam in their faces and wish I could be here to see it happen. But, I will leave before anything really significant happens here, looking on fondly from wherever I find myself, at this place that I will always consider a second home. I must say that living in Vietnam right now feels like truly living, and not just wiling away the days in the comfort of my Nova Scotia, succumbing to age and indifference. These are truly the days that I will look back upon from behind the cloudy eyes of an old man, and remember the time in my life when I felt the most alive.
I always had a distaste for the people that find religion or spiritual guidance in any form and then try and force it upon other people as though it would be as beneficial for all as it was for them. I would just like to say to anyone still reading this, that if you have not done it yet, get out of your home and move around this planet a little. Stretch your legs and experience something brand new. It will change you to your very core. I miss my friends and family more than I can adequately express here on this blog, but I feel like I belong here, right now. I have my good days and bad days in this country and today is definitely a good day. I will always be grateful to Hanoi for what it has done to change me.
-Ed
P.S.
Sorry if I got a little spirited, I am a little drunk. :)
Tuesday, November 06, 2007
My First Vietnamese Wedding
Unfortunately Karen could not get out of work, but I was able to attend my first ever Vietnamese wedding. The lovely Hai Yen was to be married to Ngoc Hoang on Monday, Oct 05 at 9am. Hai Yen was a Student Services employee of Cleverlearn who Karen and I had both worked with over the past year. The location was Thai Binh villiage about 100km's outside of Hanoi city. I left my house at 5:30am and made my way to work where there was a small bus waiting to take us all to the wedding. My small group consisted of Western teachers, Bret, Kate & Andrew and myself along with Beverly our Phillipino Acedemic Head and of course Chi our interpreter and guide. (Also an SS employee)
I will start by saying 100km's in Vietnam is not like 100km's in Canada. The road was so rough and bumpy it was like travelling in a stagecoach. It took us almost three hours to reach the little villiage and my internal organs were shaken not stirred.
The wedding began at an unthinkable 9am with a banquet and copious amounts of beer and Vietnamese rice whiskey bing knocked back by most. As the only westerners in the visinity we were a odd and curious sight to behold for most of the guests. I felt a little guilty about stealing some of the spotlight away from the dashing couple as we were certainly the center of attention frequently throughout the wedding.
With my stomach full and my head spinning from the rice whiskey, we observed a simple ceremony involving the exchange of rings and a few songs provided by guests. The wedding was finished as abruptly as it had started and to my utmost shock and surprise I found myself pushed in to the reception line and spent 10 minutes shaking hands with strangers, directly beside the bride and groom. With that task finished I found myself back in the van to endure the bumpy ride back to Hanoi with a stomach full of food and whiskey, to become upset by the horrific road conditions.
All and all it was a fantastic morning, and I wish Yen and Hoang the best of fortune in all of thier future endeavors.
-E
Stay tuned for a video of the wedding to be posted within the week.
I will start by saying 100km's in Vietnam is not like 100km's in Canada. The road was so rough and bumpy it was like travelling in a stagecoach. It took us almost three hours to reach the little villiage and my internal organs were shaken not stirred.
The wedding began at an unthinkable 9am with a banquet and copious amounts of beer and Vietnamese rice whiskey bing knocked back by most. As the only westerners in the visinity we were a odd and curious sight to behold for most of the guests. I felt a little guilty about stealing some of the spotlight away from the dashing couple as we were certainly the center of attention frequently throughout the wedding.
With my stomach full and my head spinning from the rice whiskey, we observed a simple ceremony involving the exchange of rings and a few songs provided by guests. The wedding was finished as abruptly as it had started and to my utmost shock and surprise I found myself pushed in to the reception line and spent 10 minutes shaking hands with strangers, directly beside the bride and groom. With that task finished I found myself back in the van to endure the bumpy ride back to Hanoi with a stomach full of food and whiskey, to become upset by the horrific road conditions.
All and all it was a fantastic morning, and I wish Yen and Hoang the best of fortune in all of thier future endeavors.
-E
Stay tuned for a video of the wedding to be posted within the week.
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
We are boring.
I, once again, find myself embarrassed by my lack of interesting posts. I apologise for our uninteresting lives at the moment. It seems Dartmouth is far more exciting and scary right now with reported rapes in gas stations and gangs of crazy girls torturing and attempting murder and whatnot. It sounds like the the Village of the Damned from that classic 1980's martial arts movie Gymkata.
I hope to have something to write about with the upcoming Halloween activities at my school. I have also started playing in a new, as yet unnamed band. Hanoi is as Hanoi does, unfortunately, and after 13 months we have kind of developed a "Been there, done that" Huhum attitude towards the whole thing. We are considering a big move to the big city of Saigon after the Holidays. We shall see where the wind blows us. For now, I will sign off, saying Happy Halloween everyone and keep on rocking in the free world.
-Ed
I hope to have something to write about with the upcoming Halloween activities at my school. I have also started playing in a new, as yet unnamed band. Hanoi is as Hanoi does, unfortunately, and after 13 months we have kind of developed a "Been there, done that" Huhum attitude towards the whole thing. We are considering a big move to the big city of Saigon after the Holidays. We shall see where the wind blows us. For now, I will sign off, saying Happy Halloween everyone and keep on rocking in the free world.
-Ed
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
The Vietnam Run
I have the joy of experiencing something I can only call a live video game every single day I drive to work and back. I call on those of you who remember such games as paperboy and roadrash. If you remember what those games were like, it was a mission to get from point A to point B intact and to avoid all the obsticles that were designed specifically to impede your progress. Welcome to Vietnam.
Each and every day I drive to work I have to weave in and out of the worst drivers on the face of the planet. You must keep in mind that a drivers license is not required to drive a motorcycle in Vietnam, and that children as young as twelve are riding around these streets. I have seen the stupidest manouvres you can imagine unfold directly in front of me. These people have no fear and absolutely no respect for the science of time and space. I have watched as riders on the far right side of the road suddently cut left and make a turn on to a connection street, cutting off five or six people as they do this. I have also seen people slam on thier brakes in the middle of a busy street to throw a cigarette between thier lips and light it, only to tear off again after it is lit. My most favorite thing is the text messagers. These are people doing 30-40k along a busy road with thier cell phone in hand, sending a text message while staring at thier LCD display and driving with one hand.
I have learned to deal with these obstacles and score quite highly in my daily games. I have yet to hit or be hit by anyone, as has Karen. Also, (MOM) We do not drive fast enough to hurt ourselves. We, unlike a lot of the Vietnamese, do not drive at Fatal speeds.
Driving in this environment adds an element of excitement I will miss when I move to a new country where common sense is a widely held attribute. I will miss the madness and mayhem I see on a daily basis. The best way to describe the average Vietamese citizen is to compare them to drunken hillbilly teenagers. They constantly amaze me with the things they attempt to do on the road. I would love to get some video of this natural phenomenon, but it occurs so randomly it will be quite difficult. Keep your fingers crossed and hopefully I will film something spectacularly stupid.
Here's hoping!
-Ed
P.S.
As some of you have mentioned, our posts have been becoming less and less frequent. I think we may be slightly bored here in Vietnam, and you know what that means....NEW COUNTRY! We will stick it out here for a while and then see about at the very least moving to Saigon, where we are sure to find excitement and mystery once again. Happy Thanksgiving and Happy Halloween, Y'all!
-E
Each and every day I drive to work I have to weave in and out of the worst drivers on the face of the planet. You must keep in mind that a drivers license is not required to drive a motorcycle in Vietnam, and that children as young as twelve are riding around these streets. I have seen the stupidest manouvres you can imagine unfold directly in front of me. These people have no fear and absolutely no respect for the science of time and space. I have watched as riders on the far right side of the road suddently cut left and make a turn on to a connection street, cutting off five or six people as they do this. I have also seen people slam on thier brakes in the middle of a busy street to throw a cigarette between thier lips and light it, only to tear off again after it is lit. My most favorite thing is the text messagers. These are people doing 30-40k along a busy road with thier cell phone in hand, sending a text message while staring at thier LCD display and driving with one hand.
I have learned to deal with these obstacles and score quite highly in my daily games. I have yet to hit or be hit by anyone, as has Karen. Also, (MOM) We do not drive fast enough to hurt ourselves. We, unlike a lot of the Vietnamese, do not drive at Fatal speeds.
Driving in this environment adds an element of excitement I will miss when I move to a new country where common sense is a widely held attribute. I will miss the madness and mayhem I see on a daily basis. The best way to describe the average Vietamese citizen is to compare them to drunken hillbilly teenagers. They constantly amaze me with the things they attempt to do on the road. I would love to get some video of this natural phenomenon, but it occurs so randomly it will be quite difficult. Keep your fingers crossed and hopefully I will film something spectacularly stupid.
Here's hoping!
-Ed
P.S.
As some of you have mentioned, our posts have been becoming less and less frequent. I think we may be slightly bored here in Vietnam, and you know what that means....NEW COUNTRY! We will stick it out here for a while and then see about at the very least moving to Saigon, where we are sure to find excitement and mystery once again. Happy Thanksgiving and Happy Halloween, Y'all!
-E
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Birthday Away
It was my third birthday away from friends and family in Nova Scotia, but it was enjoyable thanks to the effort of a few people. Karen went all out this year setting up a Karaoke birthday party with other teachers and staff at Cleverlearn. It was a good night even though it ended early.
The Karaoke was staged on Saturday evening so that we wouldn't have to concern ourselves with getting up early. There was cake and beer and terrible singing by all involved, but it was fun nontheless.
Monday, being my legitimate birthday, had a smaller, more private celebration with Karen and I having a wonderful meal at LA restaraunt where I had the leg of lamb and Karen enjoyed a grilled pork dish. We shared a bottle of wine and I was presented with my gift of a hand crafted guitar.
Needless to say, I was quite happy and surprised with my thoughtful gift, and now all I have to do is learn how to play the thing. It has been a while, and what little I did know, has been lost along the way.
So thirty-two has come and gone in Vietnam,and I am not as depressed about my advancing years as I would have thought. It is just a number after all and I always have my rediculous imaturity to keep me youthful.
Bye for now,
Ed
The Karaoke was staged on Saturday evening so that we wouldn't have to concern ourselves with getting up early. There was cake and beer and terrible singing by all involved, but it was fun nontheless.
Monday, being my legitimate birthday, had a smaller, more private celebration with Karen and I having a wonderful meal at LA restaraunt where I had the leg of lamb and Karen enjoyed a grilled pork dish. We shared a bottle of wine and I was presented with my gift of a hand crafted guitar.
Needless to say, I was quite happy and surprised with my thoughtful gift, and now all I have to do is learn how to play the thing. It has been a while, and what little I did know, has been lost along the way.
So thirty-two has come and gone in Vietnam,and I am not as depressed about my advancing years as I would have thought. It is just a number after all and I always have my rediculous imaturity to keep me youthful.
Bye for now,
Ed
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Same, Same but different
As it is and as it goes, we are drifting along in Vietnam in a steady ho-hum existance of work and home and work and play. We are in a pattern now, much like Taiwan and Canada before that. It doesn't seem to matter what part of the world you find yourself residing in, it always comes back around to the holding pattern. Karen is working at her new job and getting up every morning at 6:30 am, while I am getting up at 8am. This keeps us in most evenings or at least home reletively early. I imagine this will stay fairly constant until Christmas time when Karen and I will both have a month off and we head back to Thailand.
We still try and mix it up a bit on the week-ends, but it is much different here than in Taiwan. Taiwan had very few tourists and most of the people you met were expats who were sticking around for a while. Vietnam is a very transient place with most of the people we meet being tourists staying in Nam for a short time. Also, we seem to be attending exit parties for the few expats we do know every week.
At least we are not here alone. Karen and I are together and that is making all of this possible. If I was single, I would have fled Vietnam long ago.
I would not be exagerating if I said that the North Vietnamese hate us. This is something a tourist does not notice in the short time he or she stays. It is a realization that builds over an extended period. It is in a lot of little ways that accumulate and then become unmistakable. They actually hate us.
Many travellers and expats we meet all say the same thing, "It is better in Saigon." We have yet to visit Saigon and now that we have signed contracts it looks like we are stuck in Hanoi. "People are more laid back in Saigon." and "The people are friendlier" are the most common sentiments we hear from people who have lived in both places. This last one, which struck me the most was delivered in a whispered, conspiritorial manner and was simply... "They don't hate us in Saigon."
I hate to say it, but the feeling is becomming mutual in Hanoi for me. I think Karen and I need to think long and hard about relocating to Saigon. I am beginning to get very irritated here by the behavior of what I know to be only one portion of the population, but they are the biggest portion and that is what makes dealing with it so difficult. There is a huge amount of ignorant, uneducated, hillbilly, rural folk in Hanoi that move here from thier little communes and small towns. They are disgusting individuals who, like our own Canadian trailer trash, are always the loudest and most noticable in any given situation. The educated, more worldly Vietnames are wonderful, welcoming and kind people who are a pleasure to interact with. Unfortuantely, however, they are depressingly outnumbered by the ignorant masses.
Anyway, I am ranting, so thank you for allowing me my ventilation and I hope you enjoyed a little insight to where my mind is right now.
Laters,
Ed
We still try and mix it up a bit on the week-ends, but it is much different here than in Taiwan. Taiwan had very few tourists and most of the people you met were expats who were sticking around for a while. Vietnam is a very transient place with most of the people we meet being tourists staying in Nam for a short time. Also, we seem to be attending exit parties for the few expats we do know every week.
At least we are not here alone. Karen and I are together and that is making all of this possible. If I was single, I would have fled Vietnam long ago.
I would not be exagerating if I said that the North Vietnamese hate us. This is something a tourist does not notice in the short time he or she stays. It is a realization that builds over an extended period. It is in a lot of little ways that accumulate and then become unmistakable. They actually hate us.
Many travellers and expats we meet all say the same thing, "It is better in Saigon." We have yet to visit Saigon and now that we have signed contracts it looks like we are stuck in Hanoi. "People are more laid back in Saigon." and "The people are friendlier" are the most common sentiments we hear from people who have lived in both places. This last one, which struck me the most was delivered in a whispered, conspiritorial manner and was simply... "They don't hate us in Saigon."
I hate to say it, but the feeling is becomming mutual in Hanoi for me. I think Karen and I need to think long and hard about relocating to Saigon. I am beginning to get very irritated here by the behavior of what I know to be only one portion of the population, but they are the biggest portion and that is what makes dealing with it so difficult. There is a huge amount of ignorant, uneducated, hillbilly, rural folk in Hanoi that move here from thier little communes and small towns. They are disgusting individuals who, like our own Canadian trailer trash, are always the loudest and most noticable in any given situation. The educated, more worldly Vietnames are wonderful, welcoming and kind people who are a pleasure to interact with. Unfortuantely, however, they are depressingly outnumbered by the ignorant masses.
Anyway, I am ranting, so thank you for allowing me my ventilation and I hope you enjoyed a little insight to where my mind is right now.
Laters,
Ed
Wednesday, August 08, 2007
Halong 2 The Return
So after hours of research and many painful attempts to aquire airfare out of Vietnam at the last minute we were stuck with ground or sea transportation as there was nothing in economy left out of Hanoi on Saturday or Sunday. We decided to go back to Halong Bay where beaches and beauty abound. I won't bore you with the details of the scenery as it was all talked about after our first trip. I will, however, talk about some of the differences between the two trips. We did everything the first time around. All of the excursions and treks that left us more tired afterwards than when we left. This time there would be none of that. We were looking for some hardcore R&R and there would be no mountain treks, cave hikes, kayaking or cycleing for us. It was all about the lounging, sipping cocktails and taking in the breathtaking scenery on display in Halong Bay.
We found ourselves alone for an hour or so while the rest of the folks went off to gawk at the largest cave in Vietnam. This was fine, the next stop was Kayaking, and we didn't want to do that either so we were left on the boat. The tour guide said we could take a swim if we wanted, and then took off on a kayak with the rest of the tourists.
We lounged around the boat for a little while and watched the Vietnamese staff preparing the bar-b-cue dinner we were going to have. Then the engine started up and we motored away from the Kayaking place for almost twenty minutes. We arrived at a beautiful little bay where there were a lot of big Junks anchored off the shore. The captain of the boat approached us and utilizing all of his English ability, mimed the action of swimming. Karen and I glanced at each other and shrugged, "Why not? Let's take a quick dip." We changed in to our swimming suits and dove in to the water. The water was emerald green and so warm it was barely refreshing. We waded away from the boat for a few minutes to take in the rest of the little island, when we heard the engine of our Junk roar to life once more as it pulled away from us and floated off in to the distance.
This was a troublesome turn of events as we were alone on a very small island with no money, no water and no sunscreen as we had only planned on jumping in and then getting right back out. "I'm sure they will be right back>" I announced cheerfully as Karen eyed the retreating boat suspiciously. We decided to make the most of it and go for a swim around to the other side. It was about 1 pm and close to 40 degrees with the sun a constant, scorching madman. Fifteen minutes in to this ordeal and we knew we might be in trouble. With the sun directly above us in the sky the small island offered no shade at all, so we figured we would be better off in the water. We tried to stay submerged and not expose too much skin to the blistering fireball in the sky. A solid hour passed before we caught sight of the first kayaker from our group approaching the island. We then saw our Junk returning in the distance. Needless to say, I was burnt to a crisp and would suffer from it for the following two days.
We continued on with our tour and maddeningly boring and personality-less tour guide until Cat Ba island, where we had dinner and bade farewell to most of the people we had spent the last 30 hours with and went out with a small group to an insane nightclub where all the Vietnamese adults were up on the dance floor dancing like they were disabled and they were all stone sober. We took that madness in for one drink and then fled by ourselves to a less psychologically demanding scene.
We found a nice little pub and had a few cocktails listening to much better music and contemplating our next two days. That was when a friend of ours from Hanoi walked in to the bar. Mao, from Mao's Red Lounge strolled in to the bar with some of his friends. He greeted us warmly and we all laughed about how strange it was to see each other in Catba island, many hours outside of Hanoi.
We made it an early evening as the previous two days had been a whirlwind of 6am risings and long periods of travel by bus and by boat. We had our first good night sleep and woke up at noon the next day. We spent our last day and night in Catba on the beach and then a nice dinner in a restaurant.
It was a nice break from Hanoi, but kind of stressful in it's own way. I embark now on a four month stretch 7 days a week working. After that, we will need a proper vacation, probably back to Thailand for a time. So that was our long week-end. Tune in next week when the Beaver gets a C- on his mid-term and is afraid to tell his parents. Wally tells a lie that he wishes he could take back and Ward decided that it's all just too much to bear and runs off to Vegas with a cocktail waitress.
Bye for now.
-Ed
We found ourselves alone for an hour or so while the rest of the folks went off to gawk at the largest cave in Vietnam. This was fine, the next stop was Kayaking, and we didn't want to do that either so we were left on the boat. The tour guide said we could take a swim if we wanted, and then took off on a kayak with the rest of the tourists.
We lounged around the boat for a little while and watched the Vietnamese staff preparing the bar-b-cue dinner we were going to have. Then the engine started up and we motored away from the Kayaking place for almost twenty minutes. We arrived at a beautiful little bay where there were a lot of big Junks anchored off the shore. The captain of the boat approached us and utilizing all of his English ability, mimed the action of swimming. Karen and I glanced at each other and shrugged, "Why not? Let's take a quick dip." We changed in to our swimming suits and dove in to the water. The water was emerald green and so warm it was barely refreshing. We waded away from the boat for a few minutes to take in the rest of the little island, when we heard the engine of our Junk roar to life once more as it pulled away from us and floated off in to the distance.
This was a troublesome turn of events as we were alone on a very small island with no money, no water and no sunscreen as we had only planned on jumping in and then getting right back out. "I'm sure they will be right back>" I announced cheerfully as Karen eyed the retreating boat suspiciously. We decided to make the most of it and go for a swim around to the other side. It was about 1 pm and close to 40 degrees with the sun a constant, scorching madman. Fifteen minutes in to this ordeal and we knew we might be in trouble. With the sun directly above us in the sky the small island offered no shade at all, so we figured we would be better off in the water. We tried to stay submerged and not expose too much skin to the blistering fireball in the sky. A solid hour passed before we caught sight of the first kayaker from our group approaching the island. We then saw our Junk returning in the distance. Needless to say, I was burnt to a crisp and would suffer from it for the following two days.
We continued on with our tour and maddeningly boring and personality-less tour guide until Cat Ba island, where we had dinner and bade farewell to most of the people we had spent the last 30 hours with and went out with a small group to an insane nightclub where all the Vietnamese adults were up on the dance floor dancing like they were disabled and they were all stone sober. We took that madness in for one drink and then fled by ourselves to a less psychologically demanding scene.
We found a nice little pub and had a few cocktails listening to much better music and contemplating our next two days. That was when a friend of ours from Hanoi walked in to the bar. Mao, from Mao's Red Lounge strolled in to the bar with some of his friends. He greeted us warmly and we all laughed about how strange it was to see each other in Catba island, many hours outside of Hanoi.
We made it an early evening as the previous two days had been a whirlwind of 6am risings and long periods of travel by bus and by boat. We had our first good night sleep and woke up at noon the next day. We spent our last day and night in Catba on the beach and then a nice dinner in a restaurant.
It was a nice break from Hanoi, but kind of stressful in it's own way. I embark now on a four month stretch 7 days a week working. After that, we will need a proper vacation, probably back to Thailand for a time. So that was our long week-end. Tune in next week when the Beaver gets a C- on his mid-term and is afraid to tell his parents. Wally tells a lie that he wishes he could take back and Ward decided that it's all just too much to bear and runs off to Vegas with a cocktail waitress.
Bye for now.
-Ed
Friday, August 03, 2007
I must be Crazy!
Once again I find myself agreeing to work 7 days a week for the next four months. This is some kind of psychological issue or some kind of employment masochism, but whatever it is, it has led me here.
What now? The answer to that is obvious, of course, Long Weekend and a jetplane. We have yet to decide on a destination as we have just decided to go. It is 5:45 pm on a Friday as I write this and we are looking to depart at 5:30 am tomorrow. We have not booked our flight yet.
So, that leaves us flying to any destination that is within our price range and still has seats left to sell us. The only requirement is BEACHES. It is funny how my requirements have changed so much with my advancing years but sound so phonetically similar.
So now I will keep you all balanced precariously on the edge of your seats until my next post, which will be sent from the beach of wherever we land. Keep your collective fingers crossed.
Talk to you soon,
Ed
What now? The answer to that is obvious, of course, Long Weekend and a jetplane. We have yet to decide on a destination as we have just decided to go. It is 5:45 pm on a Friday as I write this and we are looking to depart at 5:30 am tomorrow. We have not booked our flight yet.
So, that leaves us flying to any destination that is within our price range and still has seats left to sell us. The only requirement is BEACHES. It is funny how my requirements have changed so much with my advancing years but sound so phonetically similar.
So now I will keep you all balanced precariously on the edge of your seats until my next post, which will be sent from the beach of wherever we land. Keep your collective fingers crossed.
Talk to you soon,
Ed
Monday, July 16, 2007
Summer in the City
Karen and I, in our constant search for methods to beat the heat, decided to go to the Hanoi Water Park on Saturday July 14th. It was about thirty-six degrees on Saturday afternoon as we strolled in to the park after surprisingly few wrong turns and language barrier questions with the Vietnamese. There is an amusement park and water park connected just ten minutes away from our old house in West Lake. It is usual Merliano madness for us to do things in this way. We wait until it is three times further away from us to go. Case in point: Karen, after living in West Lake for 10 months and working at Cleverlearn, has taken a job, two weeks after moving out of West Lake due to its relative remoteness, with a Kindergarten walking distance from our old house. This is not intentional of course, it is just how the Merlins roll. Now she has a 25-30 minute commute to her new school from our new flat in the middle of the city.
Back to the water park. We were quite impressed with the presentation of the HWP as there were many slides, pools and other attractions, and most importantly there were canteens every twenty or thirty feet selling cold beer. First and foremost I must explain that Vietnam does not hold itself to the North American standard of safety. There is very much a play at your own risk sentiment in the Nam. I have experienced only two water slides in this country and feared, quite literally, for my life. In Cat Ba island water park I was sure I would be shot right over the side and fall thirty meters to a most certain death on the jagged rocks below. This quite real possibility did not deter Karen who went down the slide repeatedly until injury on one of the more suicidal slides sidelined her for the rest of the day.
The second slide was at the Hanoi Water Park. In Cat Ba on the first slide, we had to go down on foamy "crazy carpet" looking mats that allowed you to hit the speed of light as you shot through the half-tunnel water slide with your stomach residing somewhere behind your eyes, resting agains your sinuses. At the HWP you are actually placed on inflatable raft like things and expected to travel the slide in tandem. Karen and I squeezed and wriggled our way on to the flotation device and prepared for the ride of our lives. ( I just learned that flotation doesn't have an A when spellcheck corrected me)We maintained our positions for no more than three seconds as the raft bucked us off like a deranged bronco leaving us twisted and disoriented as we shot through a jet black water slide like human bullets. With no light and no idea when we would be shat out of this tube, we positioned ourselves for the blow, and with me taking up the rear, just hoping I didn't crush Karen when we hit the water. What seemed like minutes later, after leaving a considerable amount of skin from various body parts behind in the slide. We emerged like hairy cannon balls at the bottom of the slide. I decided abruptly to make that my only attempt, but Karen, never one for learning her lesson, spent the better part of two hours trying out the various slides of death and dismemberment.
I did what I am apt to do in most situations like this, and proceeded to get afternoon bombed on .75 cent beers watching Karen shoot through a series of intestine like plastic amusement.
We left the water park just after five and went to Al Fresco's restaurant to use up a coupon we had for 250,000 Dong in free food. (About 15 bucks)and then went home to wash the pool water off and put cream on our sunburns. All in all, a good Saturday.
Talk to you soon,
-Ed
Back to the water park. We were quite impressed with the presentation of the HWP as there were many slides, pools and other attractions, and most importantly there were canteens every twenty or thirty feet selling cold beer. First and foremost I must explain that Vietnam does not hold itself to the North American standard of safety. There is very much a play at your own risk sentiment in the Nam. I have experienced only two water slides in this country and feared, quite literally, for my life. In Cat Ba island water park I was sure I would be shot right over the side and fall thirty meters to a most certain death on the jagged rocks below. This quite real possibility did not deter Karen who went down the slide repeatedly until injury on one of the more suicidal slides sidelined her for the rest of the day.
The second slide was at the Hanoi Water Park. In Cat Ba on the first slide, we had to go down on foamy "crazy carpet" looking mats that allowed you to hit the speed of light as you shot through the half-tunnel water slide with your stomach residing somewhere behind your eyes, resting agains your sinuses. At the HWP you are actually placed on inflatable raft like things and expected to travel the slide in tandem. Karen and I squeezed and wriggled our way on to the flotation device and prepared for the ride of our lives. ( I just learned that flotation doesn't have an A when spellcheck corrected me)We maintained our positions for no more than three seconds as the raft bucked us off like a deranged bronco leaving us twisted and disoriented as we shot through a jet black water slide like human bullets. With no light and no idea when we would be shat out of this tube, we positioned ourselves for the blow, and with me taking up the rear, just hoping I didn't crush Karen when we hit the water. What seemed like minutes later, after leaving a considerable amount of skin from various body parts behind in the slide. We emerged like hairy cannon balls at the bottom of the slide. I decided abruptly to make that my only attempt, but Karen, never one for learning her lesson, spent the better part of two hours trying out the various slides of death and dismemberment.
I did what I am apt to do in most situations like this, and proceeded to get afternoon bombed on .75 cent beers watching Karen shoot through a series of intestine like plastic amusement.
We left the water park just after five and went to Al Fresco's restaurant to use up a coupon we had for 250,000 Dong in free food. (About 15 bucks)and then went home to wash the pool water off and put cream on our sunburns. All in all, a good Saturday.
Talk to you soon,
-Ed
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