The Art of Misunderstanding

Yesterday morning we found a GIGANTIC spider in our bathroom. And I don’t mean a simple spider of large proportions, I mean, a monster of a spider. Like, a spider so big and scary that we were too afraid to even take a picture of it. It was resting where the wall bends into the ceiling and divided its eight legs into four pairs. It was brown and black and covered with hair. Like a tarantula, only longer and skinnier. I have never before in my life seen a spider this big. And we really didn’t know what to do. I thought the best thing to do would be to capture it and throw it outside, mainly because the idea of killing it seemed so messy. It would be like killing a rodent with a rock; slow, cruel and dirty. But we also realized that if we pissed it off enough while trying to capture it, it might bite us. And we had no idea how venomous this spider was.

We searched the Internet but couldn’t find any information about it. There were no pictures or anything. So we decided that it was either us or him and one of us had to go. Of course it became my duty to dispose of the spider. I put on a hat and gloves, my glasses, shoes, and whatever other armor I could find, and assembled a weapon. I taped one of my flip-flops to the end of a broom and went into battle. I knew I had one shot at killing it because otherwise it would just get angry. And I was having horrifying visions of this giant spider jumping on my face. I went into the bathroom.

I swung at the spider as hard as I could but because of where he had positioned himself my flip-flop didn’t make a solid connection. I had only stunned him. In hopes of a second try I anxiously swung again but this time he was prepared. He leaned his body to the left and quickly tucked in his right legs, flinching in disbelief. At this point I knew I had failed. I had shown myself as a predator determined to kill him and he knew he had to try and survive. In one fast and graceful motion he spun a web to the ceiling and lowered himself down on a shelf where he could hide behind some bottles. I could see parts of his huge body and long legs from behind Bina’s Cutex and shampoo, and through the greenish tint of my Listerine. He was too big to hide but had successfully found cover.

Bina was frantically looking for some kind of bug spray but could only come up with a can of spray paint. Ironically, the only bottle of bug spray we had in the house was on that shelf, sheltering the bug! And so I used the spray paint. I figured that the paint fumes would stun the spider while the paint would harden and paralyze him. I started spraying the shelf and all of its contents with white spray paint, spastically trying to stop the monster and completely disregarding the mess I was making. But after spraying him in quick bursts, and then solidly for several seconds, the only thing I managed to do was turn him into a white spider. But he was getting sluggish, and I finally felt like I might have the upper hand.

Eventually, as the paint started to harden, the spider gave up and curled his long legs into his body. I used the flip-flop to slide his massive carcass off the shelf and into a bag, which I then placed under my foot and stomped on twice. It was a horrible end for that spider, and one that I hadn’t wanted to last that long, but it seemed necessary.

Later that morning our friend Tuan Anh came over and told us that the spider we battled was no threat. And in fact a really cool spider that is neither poisonous nor harmful in any way. It’s just big and ugly looking. This made us feel awful. What a typically ignorant thing to do to kill something you’re afraid of. We were so eager to get rid of the strange intruder that we didn’t really take the time to try and understand what it was. And misunderstandings seem to be in abundance here in Vietnam.

Later, we battled with the landlord over our deposit on the apartment. He was unaware of the spray paint spider fiasco, or any of the nails we put in the walls, and wasn’t the kind of guy to nitpick the little things. Instead he began adding up eight months worth of electricity bills, cable tv, and hot water. And when he told us we owed him $450 we were floored. We had come to collect our $200 deposit and were now in debt! In the end, after getting several other people involved, we came to an agreement that was far better for him than us, but we accepted our fate and were content with the simple feeling that at least he understood why we were so surprised at the charges. It would have been so much worse if we hadn’t involved our friends who could help us understand his perspective and help him understand ours. And in the end, what seems to make things better in any situation is just being able to understand the different perspectives at hand. Misunderstandings seem to be in abundance here in Vietnam.

MK in Nam

Our friend Mary Katherine O’Brien came to visit and spend St. Patrick’s Day with us earlier this month. She figured Hanoi could use a real Irishman in town for the holiday and brought shamrocks to paint the town green.

We went to the one and only Irish bar in Hanoi and celebrated by drinking stout. The place was mobbed. It was crowded by every ex-pat living within a 40km radius. Bina and MK really got into the spirit and danced Irish jigs in the bar and were regaled with compliments on their authenticity. Little did anyone know it was the stout that knew the dance better than the girls. But when asked what part of Ireland they were from, they either made up a name or just said “Boston!” Which didn’t get all that much credit. But still, people from Ireland will drink with you on St. Patrick’s Day regardless of where you’re from.

The next day was my Birthday so we started celebrating that too. After we got home Bina and MK performed an impromptu lip-sync rendition of Guns and Roses “Paradise City”. Bina makes a great Axel and MK improvised Slash by wearing a bicycle helmet and calling herself “Crash”. ... It was the early 90’s all over again!


The next day Bina brought home several balloons that made the apartment feel serene and a bit surreal. Like Warhol’s Factory in a hangover haze. It’s always been strange having a Birthday the day after St. Pats. (Drunk at midnight, hangover during the day.) You’d think I’ve had enough negative connotations with it to never want to do anything on my B-Day. And mostly that’s true, but it also means I'm always very relaxed and completely unambitious on my B-Day and that makes getting older a little easier.


We also spent a couple of days on Cat Ba while MK was in town. It was good to “Rock the Cat Ba” as Julianne would say.

Here’s a picture of explorers Louise and Clarketta capturing the scenery.


MK on a motorbike:


Mary Katherine is originally from Maine but is currently living in Texas (Well, Austin, which is technically Texas, but not as scary.) so we figured it was appropriate to take her to the 17 Saloon, a bar in Hanoi that imitates an old western saloon. The Vietnamese who work there are all dressed up in cowboy outfits and the band plays country western music for most of their set. Of course every now and then they have a couple of guest singers join them on stage for karaoke-like versions of popular MTV hits. 17 Saloon is one of the strangest places in Hanoi. It’s bright, loud, and completely obsessed with the American west. There’s even a sheriff strutting around inside that actually looks like he could kick some ass in a bar fight. But I guess you shouldn’t dress like a sheriff unless you could!

Thang

I went to the studio of my painter friend Ha Manh Thang last weekend to look at some new work he’s doing for an upcoming exhibition at Sloppy Joe’s. Although I don’t work at the bar anymore I’ve agreed to continue helping them with the exhibits.

I met Thang through my friend Tuan Anh whose paintings were the first to be exhibited at Sloppy Joe’s. Thang is a great painter and draughtsman who has enjoyed a certain degree of success in Hanoi. His work is exhibited regularly at different galleries and he makes a living from selling his work. His subjects range from landscapes to portraits and are usually abstract, yet recognizable in their subject matter.

Tuan Anh, Thang and I met for coffee early in the morning and then went to one of our favorite galleries in Hanoi. The Suffusive Gallery. They focus on young Vietnamese artists whose work tends to be heavily conceptual and “on the fringe”. Here’s a link to the gallery but it may not work. http://www.suffusiveart.com/

Then we spent the afternoon at Thangs studio listening to music, talking about and looking at art. Thang showed me the paintings that he wants to exhibit at Sloppy Joe’s and told me about the concept behind them. He’s painted over 20 small portraits and has 10 more to finish that will be displayed in groups on the wall. They will look like clusters of people gathered in different areas of the bar and we joked about how “busy” the place would look once the work was hung.

Here are a few examples of the portraits.




We’re working on a timeframe right now and planning the show. Hopefully it will be up in a week or so.

Dini & Anju

Dini and Anju came to visit last month. They stayed for almost two weeks and we had a great time. Dini is Bina’s sister and Anju is Dini’s husband for those who don’t know.

The day after their flight left New York, a record 27 inches of snow fell in Central Park.

They brought us bagels from H&H! As if I wasn’t already happy to see them. And the bagels were still fresh!


Bina and I have discovered so many great restaurants in Hanoi that we were determined to take Dini and Anju to as many as we could. We even designed a schedule that covered each restaurant for lunch or dinner, and had to leave a few off in favor of others. They really should have stayed longer, but we were able to hit the best ones, regardless.



We hung around Hanoi for a few days and then took a flight to Danang. From there we took a bus to Hoi An. Hoi An is famous for its tailoring and food. It’s a bit of a tourist trap in comparison to other places in Vietnam, but because of this, it is also really accommodating to foreigners.



Our obsession with getting clothes made started out slowly and almost in a healthy nature. But by the time we left, we had become insane tailor junkies in need of a constant fix. We bought so much shit that we lost track of what we bought! We had accumulated more receipts than a nightclub coat check. It was ridiculous. But oh so worth it! Our fixes came in spurts of jackets, dresses, shoes, suits, and getting favorite things copied. Our addiction became so bad that we actually had to purchase two additional suitcases to pack it all. Luckily, we were only in Hoi An for three days.

The final tally for me included two pairs of pants, a three-piece suit, three shirts and a pair of shoes. Bina limped away with four suits, five shirts, four dresses, two jackets, and a pair of boots! I don’t remember what Dini and Anju got specifically, but we were all pretty evenly matched.

The problem was that it was all so cheap! If you wanted to stock your closet with a bunch of new business suits it would almost be worth the price of a ticket to Hoi An just to save on the suits! And the material is nice and they’re tailor-made! Incredible.

Our favorite tailor was an old woman we affectionately called Grandma, because, well, she was an old Grandma. And her Granddaughter, whose age we couldn’t agree on, was her assistant. Grandpa even showed up one day and proceeded to salute us like soldiers, so we kindly returned the salute.


Grandma made me a three-piece suit.


When we weren’t shopping like celebrities, we ate and drank a lot. Of course, drinking never helps in a town like Hoi An. Bina has been known to beer-goggle dresses before, only to come back the next day, sober, and reel at the hideousness of her purchase. Friends don’t let friends drink and shop.


We did take an excellent cooking class one night and learned how to make green papaya salad, spring rolls, and a few different meat dishes. We learned that the four main spices used in Vietnamese cuisine (At least in Hoi An) are salt, pepper, sugar, and chili pepper.





Hoi An is also close to the beach so we rented bicycles and biked to the beach. It was a little too cold to go swimming, but the view was nice.




We took a train from Hoi An to Nha Trang, a beautiful beach town eight hours to the south. The train ride was enjoyable and the passing scenery was fantastic. In Nha Trang we mostly ate and wandered around. We spent an afternoon at the beach too but the waves were so wild that we didn’t stay in for very long.





From Nha Trang we went to Dalat. This was a very pleasant surprise. Dalat is my new favorite place in Vietnam. It’s in the mountains and surrounded by pine forests. It’s not too touristy despite being a popular destination for tourists, and is home to the best vegetarian cuisine in Vietnam. The people are warm and friendly and the city is laid out over hills, so its streets are rolling like a true mountain town.

We rented motorbikes and explored the town and its surroundings. We even went for a hike up a mountain.


Anju Easy Rider.

Swan boats in the local lake.



We paid a visit to the local celebrity artist Duy Viet at his café. This guy hosts people from all over the world and has been written up in several magazines. He’s a bit of a cult figure and very eccentric. He keeps instruments and sketchpads around for his visitors and encourages creativity and hippy-like camaraderie. At one time, he was actually the Mayor of Dalat, and this is probably why the city is so cool. It’s probably, at least, why the giant town radio tower is lit-up at night to look like the Eiffel Tower!




Although the French at one point colonized Vietnam, they adopted few French traditions. I mean, you can find croissants here and there, and the people love coffee and café culture, but the one thing they totally overlooked was cheese and wine. The later being the topic I want to address.

Vietnam produces one kind of wine and it comes in white and red. It’s called Dalat wine. And yes, it’s from the Dalat region where we were. But the vineyard and winery are somewhere farther away from the city so you can’t easily visit the production facilities. Anyway, Dalat wine is typically one of the worst drinks you could ever consume. A bottle in Hanoi goes for the equivalent of $2. (2-Buck Chuck anyone? … Only nowhere near as delicious!) And has usually been sitting out in the sun for a week before you buy it, so it’s old, spoiled, and smells more like dogpiss than anything grape-based. It’s real shit, and usually only socially acceptable after everyone’s already drunk on three or four GOOD bottles of wine. Even still, people hate the way it tastes.

So it was funny to take Dini, a wine expert and budding entrepreneur in the wine business, to Dalat. And to add to the irony, we ordered it at a restaurant ....and it wasn’t too bad! In fact, I might be so bold as to say it was pretty good. This solves a mystery for me; Dalat wine isn’t the poison everyone thinks it is, it’s just that the Vietnamese don’t know how to ship it or how to take care of it in their stores. And maybe the best place to drink Dalat wine is, well, in Dalat.


From Dalat we flew back to Hanoi where we spent a few more days hanging out. The weather wasn’t as nice in Hanoi as it was in the south, but we still enjoyed walking around. We even went to see the entombed Ho Chi Minh. He’s embalmed and laying in a mausoleum for anybody that wants to pay him a visit. Of course, you can’t take pictures of him and you’re suppose to observe a series of respectful guidelines when you enter the mausoleum, like keeping your hands out of your pockets and dressing conservatively. I wish I had a picture of Uncle Ho to show you. It was really quite spooky. But here’s the mausoleum from the outside.


We also paid a visit to the famous “Hanoi Hilton” which was once a prison. However, despite what you read, the Hanoi Hilton has nothing to do with the Hanoi Hilton. The Hilton is actually on the other side of town. What is now build on the old prison grounds is the Hanoi Tower, a different hotel. Anyway, part of the old prison remains and has been turned into a museum. The artifacts displayed show how terrible the Vietnamese were treated during French colonial times, including two Guillotines and solitary confinement cells that would make Houdini claustrophobic. All accompanied by gruesome photographs of poorly treated Vietnamese prisoners.

Of course, when the prison was used by the Vietnamese after French colonial times to detain captured Americans during the Vietnam War, the displays and photos take on a whole new prospective. The propaganda, er, I mean “artifacts”, make it look like the prison was a summer camp for GIs. There are pictures of the men hanging out, playing cards, laughing, and having the time of their lives. It’s an amazing display of altered history.

John McCain’s flight suit is on display too. And everything he had with him when he was captured.

I’ve used a bunch of Anju’s pictures for this blog entry because he took such good ones, but there’s a bunch more if you want to see them: http://www.kodakgallery.com/Slideshow.jsp?mode=fromshare&Uc=7ahh00gv.1nnkfowf&Uy=890moa&Ux=1

Minsk Trip

My friend Al and I went on a motorcycle trip to the north a few weeks ago. We were on the road for four days. He had the week off from work and wanted to rent a couple of Minsk motorcycles and get out of town. We planned a route that would take us into the mountains and close to the Chinese border. We picked up the bikes on Wednesday morning and headed out of Hanoi. The traffic was miserable and it took a while before we found the highway we were supposed to be on, but after that, it was smooth sailing to the north.

Here's Al before the trip:


We drove for a better part of the day, making a few stops along the way for beer and cigarettes. By the time we reached Lang Son, we were ready to eat and relax for the evening. We booked a room at a hotel and explored the city.

Lang Son is a simple city with beautiful little mountains surrounding it. The mountains are small but steep and some of them have stairways built into their sides. We climbed a couple of them to get a view of the city.


Al doing the "Top-of-the-World" pose:



Don't these mountains look like a pair of breasts?


The similarity is uncanny!


In the morning we headed north again. This time to a town called Cao Bang. Along the way we took a wrong turn and ended up at the Chinese border.



We found the road again and continued north.


We took a small detour to drive over a few mountain passes and found ourselves on one of the worst roads of the trip. It was under construction and muddy from being soaked by rains from the past few days. We drove in the deep ruts made by trucks but still got stuck several times. The bikes slid around and were hard to control. Luckily the Minsk is made for this kind of terrain and runs well in low gear. We were able to pass the mountain and reconnect with the main road on the other side. It took a lot longer than we had expected.






We came to a river crossing that offered a ferry for trucks and a shitty little bridge for motorbikes. We took the bridge.


It was starting to rain and get dark. We drove as fast as we could to try and beat the darkness but ended up rolling into Cao Bang after sunset. We found a hotel and headed to the local bar. The bar was great. It was a cocktail lounge and real find for any part of Vietnam let alone a weird little town that far north. We drank a few cocktails and then bought a pack of playing cards and headed back to the hotel. We stayed up pretty late drinking and playing cards and then passed out. We had planned to leave early the next morning for another mountain pass road on our way south to Bac Can, but we didn’t wake up until after 9:00 and our hangovers kept us off the road until 11:00.




We drove up a main road to find the mountain pass road. It was a long detour and we knew it was going to take a while. However, when we finally reached the road, it was flooded worse that the other muddy road and impassable. We had been on a wet and foggy road all the way up to this road and knew that this detour was going to be bad. We were literally in the clouds and the ground must have been soaked for weeks. We knew we didn’t have enough time so we had to make a decision; should we keep going west, past this mountain dirt road and reconnect with the main road to Bac Can much later, or do we turn back and count our losses. We knew that if we turned back it would save time, and so we did. We had wasted the best daylight we were going to have and drove 120km out of our way. In Tinh Tuc we turned around and headed back to Cao Bang.



The road to Bac Can was a good one. It was smooth and easy to drive. The view was spectacular too. However, we had run out of time again and arrived in Bac Can in the dark. At this point, we had been driving all day with hardly any stops. We were cold, tired, and hungry. We found a hotel and went for food. It was a well-earned meal and we started to feel like we were coming back to life.




In the morning we actually managed to get up early and head out before 9:00. This made all the difference in the world. We took another detour through another mountain pass road, and although it was just as narrow and unkempt as the muddy roads, it was covered with rocks and easier on the bikes. Nevertheless, it was just as slippery. The bikes performed beautifully and the ride was exciting. The bikes pitched from side to side, bounced up and down and jumped over rocks and ditches. Controlling the sliding and skids was tricky at times but I felt like a dirtbike racer on a well-designed obstacle course.



We reached the town of Thai Nguyen a lot earlier than we expected and realized that we’d be in Hanoi by 5:00. We took our time getting back and stopped for coffee. But this road was a main highway and very busy with traffic heading back to Hanoi, so we just kept up a good pace and let the kilometers pass.


Getting back into Hanoi was no fun. The trip was over and the traffic was totally uninviting. But it was good to be home. We were covered with mud, soaked to the bone, and tired. It made me realize how great it was to be out of town, but just as good to be home.

A ride like this is a great way to clear your head and take in nature. It’s challenging at times and the only thing you can think about is the bike and the terrain, trying to get through a difficult area, to a simple destination. And at other times it’s fast and easy, leaving you to your thoughts.

Here's a map of the trip:
I think if you click on it you can see the details.