Northern Vietnam

A piece of Junk

October 18,

I'm sitting back on the wicker sofa writing on top of a glass table. It's been three days on the water, two ships, one kayak and an Island reminiscent of Las Vegas. The wicker sofa and glass table sit atop a wooden boat with deck chairs and an observation deck. The wood seems like a darkened brown hardwood with ornaments of the Snake-Like God of Naga along the edges. The boat looks sturdy enough, although I can't be sure when the last maintenance session happened. The Australians and New Mexicans are either reading, plugging into their iPods or doing some travel writing of their own. I look outside the boat and see rock outcroppings reminiscent of back home.

I'm currently joined by Lisa and ten others in Halong Bay, a waterway off the east coast of Vietnam in the Gulf of Tonkin. The bay is famous for its enormous and pristine rock outcroppings, caves and island archipelagos that stretch for miles. The local myth is that the rocks were created by a dragons whom the Vietnamese summoned from heaven to fight off the invading Chinese. The locals even say the dragon still exists. Modern science would most likely disagree and state that these were merely caused by tectonic plates on the fault line. The first story sounds a bit more romantic.

We are currently on the support boat that takes us to our Junk Boat which will take us back to the mainland and back to Hanoi. The phrase Junk Boat for some reason disturbs me, but my best guess as to its name comes from the fact that there are hundreds of these boats in the bay at one time looking distinctly similar: Old wooden boats that run fairly well but seem junky, not to forget the junk toxic fumes and sewage that spill into the water daily. It is a member of the UNESCO group (UN educational and scientific, cultural organization) due to its beauty and history. But like many other places in Vietnam, econmic growth brings unregulated pollution. And recently the UN gave the mandate to Vietnam to curb its pollution by a given percentage (of which I do not know) otherwise it will pull its UNESCO label within five years. Still, all of this doesn't prevent the majority of us from swimming alongside the boat from time to time. As one of the Australians proclaims, the salt kills everything.

If I were to rewind the film by three days to the start of the Halong Bay trip, we start at the port of Halong city after a three hour minibus ride from where we were staying in Hanoi, the country's capital. We are led by Kiel, a fearless 23-year old with slightly styled black hair and huge smile. While he tries his best to speak to us in English, the lack of verb tense and grammatical structure makes every statement a difficult one to understand. While this doesn't bother me the majority of the time, it will become somewhat more stressful as he gives us instructions while kayaking through the narrow caves. But that's not until tomorrow, for today we sit back and enjoy the "Amazing Caves".

Which to give the Vietnamese credit, are amazing. By now many of you may know about caves. They are formed by some sort of waterway, whether by river, sea or ocean. They are usually made of limestone, and have a high salt content. The water erodes the rock and cuts the rock after millions and millions of years. The rock dries up in various eclectic forms including stalactites (cylindrical shapes forming "tight" from the ceiling), stalagmites (cylindrical shapes forming from the floor, that "might be a stalagmite), and columns (stalactites and stalagmites coming together). Throw in some finger rocks and you have explained 60% of what there is to see in any given cave in the world.

But still these caves prove amazing as they were formed in the sea, and it's most likely that these caves will collapse entirely after another 30 million years. But at the moment, I'm just happy that the weather is holding out for some clear, cool sunny days.

The highlight of the amazing cave is yet another big linga rock - the male genital description. At least that's what Lisa and I guess it to be. Kiel, the guide, disagrees and says it could possibly be the finger of Buddha. Either case, it's male testosterone protruding through.

By late afternoon, we're back on our junk ship which will be our accommodation of the evening. We're joined by a French girl couple, Flor and Michelle; Three Australians, Adam, Simon and Tim ; Two New Mexicans (not Mexican babies but from the state of New Mexico) of Matt and Jordan; Two Swiss, Katrine and another blond haired woman whose name I forget; and of course the neutral Canadian Adrian. We all get along from the most part, all between the ages of 25 and 45, all travelling through Vietnam, half of us teachers or former teachers, and all of us looking for something a little bit different.

Two of our friends from the boat, Fleur and Michelle

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It feels like I've been paddling for ten hours straight, but truth be told it's only been an hour and a half. Lisa's doing the steering in the back, and since my shoulder muscles have fallen out of shape all I can do is paddle in infrequent bursts. Usually, Lisa will try and spur me on by counting to ten. I will then drop off from exhaustion and give out a big sigh. Our guide Kiel keeps us paddling as we stick together, taking breaks to rest my arms and to view blue lagoons.

The lagoon is an inlet, making a semicircle with roughly a half mile radius. The peaks of the rocks in all directions remind me of the California coast. My neck gets sore from looking upward. Kiel tells us to have a look around, and like primary school children we have no choice but to go along Muscle exhaustion is kicking in. But then I block everything out and realize that I'll likely never have the chance to be here again, and things fall into perspective. My mind wonders, my pains forgotten. We row out of the lagoon as we dock at the nearby beach.

Kayaking would be quite fun without the hard work, I imagine. You get to see local fishing villages, swim off beachfronts less traveled, and see caves off the main tourist corridor. One such cave we attempt to see is buried in the Halong bay archipelago, and for lack of information I will call it the unnamed cave. Kiel checks the tide and has us paddling in one kayak at a time. The afternoon lights dim to a skylight which dim even more into a heavy dusk. Kiel is leading with a head lamp that is one flicker away of losing all illuminosity. He asks for interested parties that would want to walk through the cave. Lisa, myself and more than half of the group decline, as we huddle along a damp shoreline in almost darkness.

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It's not a good time when one of the people come back from the cave tour and says, "Man, I think I just stepped on a bunch of live coral." New Mexico Matt came back with cuts gashes all over his ankle. The others come back fairly unscathed, but all agree that it probably was not worth the twenty minute stroll in the dark.

Our Friends, Tim (foreground) and Simon (behind) trying to paddle in the dark cave

So one by one again we kayak out of the cave, Lisa egging me on to paddle as quickly as possible out of the darkness. The loveable french couple of Flor and Michelle are hopelessly spinning their kayak around in circles, accidentally ramming into us in every which way possible. With a helpful shove, we get them in the right direction.

Saying goodbye to the cave, we make our final paddle of the day along a final fishing village. An overly agressive dog tries to paddle his way out to greet us, but we are safely out of his reach. Minutes later we see our support boat. We fumble back on to this boat one by one, climbing up the rickety ladder on to stabler ground. Five minutes later, as if we hadn't enough water for the day, I jump off the top of the ship with the Australians into the water. I mind the pollution and try to relax my aching arms.

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Back on board the boat, tonight we set a course for Cat Ba island. One of the bigger islands in the Halong Bay archipelago, it is mostly overshadowed by the craggy limestone hills above. We exit the boat on the less populated side of Cat Ba island, cram into a minivan, climb over the hills and see a town on the other side reminiscent of Las Vegas. The beachline is riddled tonight with fantastically gaudy umbrella lights that flicker red, yellow and green. Trees and spacy beachfront has been replaced by discos, western restaurants and hotels. We stay at one of these hotels, living the artificial life of air conditioning, cable T.V. and an all you can eat breakfast buffet. Tour guide Kiel meets us this evening and takes us to a club he thinks we would like, the only problem being the music tens of decibels too loud and disturbingly annoying.

After deciding on a local bar serving cheap bottles of Hanoi beer, sleep becomes imminent. We walk back to the artificial hotel life for a night, wake up the next morning and back on the support boat. The support boat brings us to our Junk boat, trading places with incomming people awaiting their day of Kayaking. Like a well oiled assembly line, we are led back on to the boat, anchors away and back to the Halong City Harbor. Stepping on to the platform, we are led back on to the minivan back to Hanoi via a toilet stop which passes through another disabled handicraft factory.

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Back in Hanoi, we are quickly plunged into city life, as the Frogger video game comes to life once again when crossing the street. Motorcycles and scooters abound, an ancient Vietnamese scooter rider lady with curling irons and nightgown comes within inches of contact. Hawkers are asking us once again for motorbike rides, Vietnamese T-shirts and bottled water. Being professionals at dealing with this behavior, Lisa and I walk back to our Hotel in Hanoi, thinking of these hawkers like flies you metaphorically swap away every few minutes. But then I remember in my mind to be nice, as these people live on the high salary of $50 a month.

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Whites only

In our travels throughout this country, Lisa is constantly asked where she resides. "You, you look Vietnamese." We actually time on the stopwatch how long it takes a stranger to ask us this question. The average time being 45 seconds. Thinking about this more, I can see why the locals ask the question. She is petite, with Asian features and Asian hair with "white"-ish Asian skin, surely she must be Vietnamese.

And then I begin to look at the Vietnamese women on their scooters. Their faces are covered with masks, their foreheads covered with scarves, their arms covered with long gloves reaching the shoulder. It's almost as if they are piece-mealing a burqa together. I am puzzled, as surely this cannot be comofrtable, the temperature reaching almost 90 degrees. Like many Asian countries, it's in to be a white girl, a symbol of affluence and status. Vietnamese women take great measures to insure white skin, whether it is covering every body part or using a white lotion on their face made from mercury. So what if it kills fish, as long as it makes them look good.



Water puppets



Speaking of white people, we get a chance to go to a water puppet show in town, the audience mainly being white tourists. The women in the music section have dangerously white skin and rosy cheeks, waiting in turn to sing their parts while the water puppets of dragons and phoenixes take their turn. The puppetry, itself, goes back over 800 years starting in the Red River Delta in Northern Vietnam. The puppets are made of wood and laquered with vegetable-based paint. They are then attached on long hooks with moveable parts for their head, legs and ankles. The show we watch in town focuses on the magical creatures of Vietnam: the dragon, the phoenix, the turtle and the lion. I have to admit that some of the facts above were researched out and do not come for first hand experience.

But for more info on water puppetry, check out the following site:
http://www.thingsasian.com/stories-photos/1239



The Vietnam Withdrawal

Like our American forefathers did more than thirty years ago, it's time to pull out of Vietnam. Our next stop is Laos (where we currently are at the present, and need to catch up in my writing), home of cheap barbecue stands and herbal saunas. More on that next time.

Keep a look out for more pictures. Hopefully the vietnam pictures will be up in a few days. I'll put up a message as they are up. They'll be on the same site as the Cambodia ones.

But for now, keep travelling, wherever you are.

Travelling Sherman