AWAKENING: CAMBODIA
Waking up in Cambodia for the first time is a new experience. All over the place they have these little booths that resemble a phone booth, except there is always a middle-aged Cambodian woman sitting in a plastic chair in front, texting on her mobile phone. You approach her, slowly, and tell her the area code you wish to call. She chooses from a few of the same Nokia phones based on the area code, and dials for you. Once it rings, she hands it over. I know because I did this about 10 times. It's an incredible system for those who don't have a mobile phone in SE Asia (for example, me).
Utilizing this nearly flawless system, I called Kris Warner, a contact who works at an orphanage in Phnom Penh. Kris used to go to City Church when he lived in San Francisco, and now he runs the Vocational and Educational Program at a Foursquare Church sponsored orphanage- teaching English and overseeing the orphanage sewing shop. Kris agreed to come pick us up and show us the orphanage- which made us very excited.
THE ADVENTURE THAT IS THE PHNOM PENH STREET MARKET
Until Kris arrived, Katie and I toured the streets of Phnom Penh- most notably, picking up lunch in the street market. I was thoroughly impressed with Katie's bravery in even touching, let alone eating, the food they had on display. I mean, I'll eat pretty much anything (I had a professional career and would regularly dine on microwavable Chef Boyardee Meat Ravioli in a can), and even I was nervous. We grabbed the most edible-looking food: 2 baggies of white rice, some unidentifiable type of fried fish, and a few small cooked sausages.
DOG SAUSAGES
Not that any of the food looked great, but each item tasted much worse than it looked. Katie attempted to force the sausage down, but it's tough to eat anything that looks and taste more and more like dog the more time it's around. I got through one, and that was enough. My "fish" was, apparently, not meant to be eaten by human beings. So... in the end, we ate some white rice. And a fresh carrot each.
At this point, Kris joined our delightful traditional Camodianmeal. We greeted eachother, and immediately asked Kris what the sausages were made of. He assured us it was pork, but also noted he was "very impressed" that we were courageous enough to eat from the market. "What does that mean?" we inquired. "Just that most people wouldn't think about eating food from the street here. I'm glad to see you're adventurous", Kris responded.
KILLING FIELDS
We hopped into Kris's car and were off. Our first stop was the Killing Fields- the main site where Pol Pot and his Khmer Rouge regime attempted to wipe out an entire generation of Cambodians in the late 1970's. Sobering. They have stacks and stacks of human skulls on display. 2 million people killed. The depth of evil that human beings are capable of attaining was tangible. Apart from God, we are all lost and broken- this truth was never more clear to me than when we walked the grounds.
After the devastating reality of the Killing Fields, we were fortunate enough to visit the orphanage. Let me start by saying that it is incredible to see so stark a contrast. On the one hand, the Killing Fields: a place of unspeakable evil, destruction of life, even spiritually demonic. A few miles down the road exists a Christian-run orphanage housing 100 kids focused on bringing healing, ushering in hope, binding people together in love. It is absolutely no joke- a striking example of God's Kingdom being built up on this earth. In fact, I would go so far as to say that there is a reason the main campus of the Foursquare Orphanages is located a few miles from these killing fields. God is showcasing how He can do a good and wonderful work out of even the dimmest of situations. Needless to say, it was powerful.
FOUR SQUARE CHILDREN OF PROMISE ORPHANAGE
We toured the orphanage. The have a brand new 2-level medical clinic building: complete with a table and a dentist's office (one of the older children is now in Dental School and peforms checkups for the kids). There is a sewing room that Kris oversees, where 4 girls and a mentor were making cloth handbags. The designs were incredible! So incredible in fact, that Katie and I each bought one on the spot. Lucky for me, the girl who had made my one-of-a-kind awesome new designer handbag was there, so I was able to get a picture with her. She was a total celebrity in my eyes.
The orphanage also boasts a computer lab for teaching kids computer skills (they had a class for Adobe Illustrator that I would love to take), a full kitchen and dining area, a church, a library, classrooms, and even a machine shop where the kids learn how to fix broken tractors. This functions on multiple levels: a service to the local farming community, an income generator, and valuable job skills training for the children. They are also almost finished with new dorms for girls who work in local factories and don't have housing.
Basically, this place is awesome. And from this main campus they have planted 139 other homes over the last 10 years for children all over the country. Kris introduced us to some of his students, and we got to talk with some of them for a while. Throughout the entire visit, Katie and I were both visibly pumped for what God is doing there.
BOAT NOODLE?
After the tour, we hopped into Kris's car to go to out for dinner. Kris took us to an awesome place with an even more awesome name that we never would have found on our own: Boat Noodle. I'm still unclear as to what a "boat noodle" is, and even after living there for 2 years, so was Kris. But it didn't matter. The food was superb. Traditional Khmer dishes + fresh fruit platters + vegetable egg rolls + a few "Angkor" beers + great conversation for 3 hours = A highlight of my entire Cambodian experience.
It was so good to hear the whole process that brought Kris to Cambodia- his passion for teaching, his love of travel and living abroad, and his faith in God. All of these combined to bring him to this place- and he is clearly being used and stretched. It was refreshing to hear about God's preparation of Kris through his previous travels around the world, building up to this call to be in Cambodia.
We finished with our "Boat Noodle" and called it a night- sleeping with full and happy stomachs.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Monday, June 22, 2009
MEKONG BOAT TOUR: HCM TO PHNOM PENH.
In an effort to get even remotely caught up with where I currently am (Jaipur, India), I will be attempting to make my posts more succinct, and focused- without losing the heart and the vision of "Matthew Heads East". I'm sure most readers (besides my mother) will be excited to hear this news... as my writing has, thus far, dragged on and on.
Thanks.
-Matt
DAY 1: BOAT? BUS? WHATEVER. IT'S A TOUR.
I awoke in my $8 top floor penthouse suite (complete with an unattached bathroom, and free humidity) early the next morning. I had to get to the infamous Mekong Delta Boat Tour that promised to take me on a 2 day relaxing journey along the Mekong river, terminating at my destination, Phnom Pehn Cambodia. "Perfect", I mused.
The bus (not boat) left at 7:30am, and after swiftly walking with my bags, I boarded the bus. We began to take off. We stopped after 1/2 block- boarding more people. That's when it hit me- like a ton of bricks.
I HEAR PASSPORTS ARE IMPORTANT
"MY PASSPORT!", I yelled. I ran off the bus and down the already busy street as fast as my legs could carry me. I arrived, out of breath, at the swanky hotel, and the lasy behind the counter was already apologizing and holding my passport. I grabbed it from her, thanked her, and ran lightning speed back to the bus- which I had little confidence was actually still there. Thank GOD, it was there. I boarded, sweating profusely, sat down, and we were off.
I then broke the ice by making a joke, "Everyone got their passports?" Few people laughed. Maybe 3. But that was enough. The rest were probably either asleep or didn't speak english. Yeah... that's it.
MEKONG DELTA
We arrived, amidst crippling traffic, at the Mekong Delta and boarded the boat. The rest of the day consisted of visiting a number of "river businesses"- houses on stilts lining the Mekong, making and selling a variety of items: chips, candies, scarves, and other things that tourists enjoy buying when they the process of them being made. It was actually very delightful and interesting.
We transferred boats and continued on the river through an area of the lush tropical trees and greenery flanking each side, creating a narrow river passage straight out of "Apocalypse Now". It was incredible. An absolute highlight of the trip. The green palm trees bending toward the boat combined with the brown dirtiness of the river made for a stunningly vibrant sensory experience.
FRIENDS ARE GOOD
Thankfully, I made some new friends on the boat trip, as we sat on the back deck, soaking up the sun and vistas. John, Stewart, and Kirsty, all from England. We discussed different travel stories- apparently Stewart and Kirsty had gotten married in Laos withour their knowledge. Some tribal elder performed a ceremony which they believed was for a different couple, but was really for them. That's awesome.
We arrived at the 2-level hotel set on the river. It was incredible- huge top deck patio restaurant/bar where we ate and drank and were merry. Stewart, John and I stayed up on the deck talking for hours. A bloody good time.
DAY 2
The next morning we awoke and I realized that the entire river surface below our room was covered in beautiful river lilies, fading into a network of stilts supporting the houses above. Wonderful way to wake up.
Then we were off, to tour more local river businesses, where we were immediately barraged by a wild pack of incredibly cute children asking for "food". Which apparently in Vietamese translates to "money", because when offered food, they refused it. But that doesn't mean that I didn't think about adopting a few of them. Cuz it definitely crossed my mind.
CAMBODIA: THE START OF SOMETHING NEW
Eventually, we arrived at the Cambodian border, and entered a border restaurant while waiting to receive our Cambodian Visas. No one was certain that we would really get them... after all, we were going into Cambodia, but after an hour our guide emerged with 20 visas. And he only took an "unspoken service charge" of $2 for each visa. Not bad.
We hopped on the next boat, and immediately the landscape changed to pastoralist, agricultural land- complete with Cambodian cows and natives working on their farms. Beautiful to see. After an hour we docked, and transferred yet again- this time to a mini-bus. And when I say mini-bus, I mean we crammed 14 people plus bags into a van meant to hold 8. On a good day.
As we drove, the tour guide said "Hello" in about 700 languages. Impressive. Then he tried to sell us on his tours and hotels. We arrived in central Phnom Pehn, and parted ways with my new friends.
MR. LIM: TUK TUK DRIVER
It was at this juncture I met him: Mr. Lim: Tuk Tuk Driver. Mr. Lim is a true Renaissance Man- enlighted in the arts, rhetoric, an advocate for social reforms (he went off on "Stupid Government" at least 12 times), and of course, a self-made man. He also happened to be a delight. I hopped into his tuk tuk- a chariot/shrine with 2 bench seats hitched to the back of a bike. With a 1 gallon tank and a top speed approaching 20 mph, this hog covers some mean Cambodian territory.
Mr. Lim toured me around Phnom Pehn, while we had good conversation. We visited the lake, which "stupid government" had filled in with sand, leaving little water. We drove by some federal buildings, where "stupid government" resides. Eventually we found a hotel (endorsed by "stupid government"), Hotel Angkor International- complete with gold-painted statues adorning the entire first floor. Turning to Mr. Lim:Tuk Tuk Driver, I remarked, "This place has character- I like it." I checked in.
TRAVEL PARTNER!
After a few hours of chilling and writing email, Mr. Lim: Tuk Tuk Driver picked me up and we drove the 20 km to the airport to pick up the lovely Ms. Katie Martin. Around 10:30pm Katie landed and proceeded out of baggage claim to where I met her with open arms. SO good to see her. As much as I had enjoyed eating meals alone and talking (and laughing) to myself for the last 8 days, it was a relief to have a companion. Mr. Lim: Tuk Tuk Driver circled around to pick us up, I introduced he and Katie, and we boarded our chariot bound for glory.
SO good to converse with Katie about the past 8 days- both my crazy adventures and her wonderful time as high school girl's counselor on a church boat trip. Thank you GOD!
Thanks.
-Matt
DAY 1: BOAT? BUS? WHATEVER. IT'S A TOUR.
I awoke in my $8 top floor penthouse suite (complete with an unattached bathroom, and free humidity) early the next morning. I had to get to the infamous Mekong Delta Boat Tour that promised to take me on a 2 day relaxing journey along the Mekong river, terminating at my destination, Phnom Pehn Cambodia. "Perfect", I mused.
The bus (not boat) left at 7:30am, and after swiftly walking with my bags, I boarded the bus. We began to take off. We stopped after 1/2 block- boarding more people. That's when it hit me- like a ton of bricks.
I HEAR PASSPORTS ARE IMPORTANT
"MY PASSPORT!", I yelled. I ran off the bus and down the already busy street as fast as my legs could carry me. I arrived, out of breath, at the swanky hotel, and the lasy behind the counter was already apologizing and holding my passport. I grabbed it from her, thanked her, and ran lightning speed back to the bus- which I had little confidence was actually still there. Thank GOD, it was there. I boarded, sweating profusely, sat down, and we were off.
I then broke the ice by making a joke, "Everyone got their passports?" Few people laughed. Maybe 3. But that was enough. The rest were probably either asleep or didn't speak english. Yeah... that's it.
MEKONG DELTA
We arrived, amidst crippling traffic, at the Mekong Delta and boarded the boat. The rest of the day consisted of visiting a number of "river businesses"- houses on stilts lining the Mekong, making and selling a variety of items: chips, candies, scarves, and other things that tourists enjoy buying when they the process of them being made. It was actually very delightful and interesting.
We transferred boats and continued on the river through an area of the lush tropical trees and greenery flanking each side, creating a narrow river passage straight out of "Apocalypse Now". It was incredible. An absolute highlight of the trip. The green palm trees bending toward the boat combined with the brown dirtiness of the river made for a stunningly vibrant sensory experience.
FRIENDS ARE GOOD
Thankfully, I made some new friends on the boat trip, as we sat on the back deck, soaking up the sun and vistas. John, Stewart, and Kirsty, all from England. We discussed different travel stories- apparently Stewart and Kirsty had gotten married in Laos withour their knowledge. Some tribal elder performed a ceremony which they believed was for a different couple, but was really for them. That's awesome.
We arrived at the 2-level hotel set on the river. It was incredible- huge top deck patio restaurant/bar where we ate and drank and were merry. Stewart, John and I stayed up on the deck talking for hours. A bloody good time.
DAY 2
The next morning we awoke and I realized that the entire river surface below our room was covered in beautiful river lilies, fading into a network of stilts supporting the houses above. Wonderful way to wake up.
Then we were off, to tour more local river businesses, where we were immediately barraged by a wild pack of incredibly cute children asking for "food". Which apparently in Vietamese translates to "money", because when offered food, they refused it. But that doesn't mean that I didn't think about adopting a few of them. Cuz it definitely crossed my mind.
CAMBODIA: THE START OF SOMETHING NEW
Eventually, we arrived at the Cambodian border, and entered a border restaurant while waiting to receive our Cambodian Visas. No one was certain that we would really get them... after all, we were going into Cambodia, but after an hour our guide emerged with 20 visas. And he only took an "unspoken service charge" of $2 for each visa. Not bad.
We hopped on the next boat, and immediately the landscape changed to pastoralist, agricultural land- complete with Cambodian cows and natives working on their farms. Beautiful to see. After an hour we docked, and transferred yet again- this time to a mini-bus. And when I say mini-bus, I mean we crammed 14 people plus bags into a van meant to hold 8. On a good day.
As we drove, the tour guide said "Hello" in about 700 languages. Impressive. Then he tried to sell us on his tours and hotels. We arrived in central Phnom Pehn, and parted ways with my new friends.
MR. LIM: TUK TUK DRIVER
It was at this juncture I met him: Mr. Lim: Tuk Tuk Driver. Mr. Lim is a true Renaissance Man- enlighted in the arts, rhetoric, an advocate for social reforms (he went off on "Stupid Government" at least 12 times), and of course, a self-made man. He also happened to be a delight. I hopped into his tuk tuk- a chariot/shrine with 2 bench seats hitched to the back of a bike. With a 1 gallon tank and a top speed approaching 20 mph, this hog covers some mean Cambodian territory.
Mr. Lim toured me around Phnom Pehn, while we had good conversation. We visited the lake, which "stupid government" had filled in with sand, leaving little water. We drove by some federal buildings, where "stupid government" resides. Eventually we found a hotel (endorsed by "stupid government"), Hotel Angkor International- complete with gold-painted statues adorning the entire first floor. Turning to Mr. Lim:Tuk Tuk Driver, I remarked, "This place has character- I like it." I checked in.
TRAVEL PARTNER!
After a few hours of chilling and writing email, Mr. Lim: Tuk Tuk Driver picked me up and we drove the 20 km to the airport to pick up the lovely Ms. Katie Martin. Around 10:30pm Katie landed and proceeded out of baggage claim to where I met her with open arms. SO good to see her. As much as I had enjoyed eating meals alone and talking (and laughing) to myself for the last 8 days, it was a relief to have a companion. Mr. Lim: Tuk Tuk Driver circled around to pick us up, I introduced he and Katie, and we boarded our chariot bound for glory.
SO good to converse with Katie about the past 8 days- both my crazy adventures and her wonderful time as high school girl's counselor on a church boat trip. Thank you GOD!
Sunday, June 21, 2009
DA LAT BACK TO THE HCM, BABY BABY!
GOOD MORNING, VIETNAM!
I awoke the next morning and peeled off my itchy plastic/styrofoam floral printed sheets (singular) to greet the day. I hopped into the bathroom shower, steadied myself against the nearby toilet & turned the strange shower motor contraption all the way to HOT. The space-age looking and stone-age functioning apparatus had a better idea. "How about this", it mocked "let's make a deal. I'll give you freezing cold water imported direct from the Arctic circle and you can just stand there turning my myriad of purposeless knob, questioning where the hot water reservoir could be, until you give up and stand there shivering and accept that you've booked an $8 hotel room." Defeated, I agreed.
As much as I wanted to hang out in my hotel room, it was time for me to do some of my own adventurin' around Da Lat. I wandered the streets amidst glances, stares, and the occasional Vietnamese shout out- apparently a 6'-4" tall lanky white guy gets alot of attention in Vietnam- actually, based on my travel experience, make that anywhere besides Western Europe. But especially in Da Lat.
CENTRAL MARKET: DELICACIES ABOUND
This white boy wandered his way to the central market, the more "local" or "ghetto" of the two markets. Descending the staircase into the market, I was immediately greeted with various large steel bowls holding nearly every Vietnamese delicacy: live toads, mounds of water snakes, thick eels, huge slimy catfish, and of course, Vietnamese dog- skinned and broiled. As a good American, I of course did my democratic duty by purchasing one of each of these animals, took them down to the lake, and set them free as a "freedom ritual". Each animal thanked me and happily swam off- except the dog- he just sank.
I continued through the market and found some great fresh apple-pear tasting fruits. I didn't ask, I just ate. And they were good. Real good. I left the market to book my bus back to Ho Chi Min, leaving Da Lat at 2pm, so that I could get back in time to go clubbin' up in da HCM. No- not by myslef- as if I desired a repeat of my CLUB RAIN experience- because I had met a kid named Ahn who worked at a restaurant in HCM who said a group of his friends were going out dancing on Saturday night at the "best clubs in the city", and that I could crash at his place for the night for free. At least that's what I was led to believe. So I hopped on the bus and got awesome time to read, write, and pray- all amidst frequent & sporadic horn-blowing from the bus driver.
Good news about not having anyone to talk with- you get time. It was incredible- I got to pray all the way through the alphabet for different people by first letter of first name. This method works out well for people with names with less common letter- let's just say Ingrid and Zald have gotten alot of prayers.
AHN: NOT WHAT I EXPECTED
I arrived back in Ho Chi Min and met Anh at his restaurant. Then he took me to find a hotel for myself- ok, not what I was thinking, but that's cool. After I checked in to literally the worst hotel I had been in yet, we were off. Off to some club that definitely really wanted to be uber swanky. Kind of like CLUB RAIN, but not as crappy. They definitely had the fruit platters. This is when things got strange.
Ahn took us to the bar, inquired about the price of a bottle of Jack Daniel's- 1 million dong ($57 U.S.). I told him I didn't want a half bottle of Jack Daniels. So Ahn proceeded to order 2 beers for us, and then looked me to pay. Reluctantly I did.
I kept asking Ahn where his friends were- he kept telling me that his friends would meet us soon. They never came. Ahn also kept telling me that I was "handsome man". I didn't think it possible, but he situation was actually getting weirder. After some awkward amount of time, Ahn informed me that it was time to leave. We went on our way- apparently to another club. But first we had to stop at his restaurant. I told him I was going to another bar. That's when I made my get-away. Luckily, I escaped and made it to my hotel room- alone. Thank God!
I awoke the next morning and peeled off my itchy plastic/styrofoam floral printed sheets (singular) to greet the day. I hopped into the bathroom shower, steadied myself against the nearby toilet & turned the strange shower motor contraption all the way to HOT. The space-age looking and stone-age functioning apparatus had a better idea. "How about this", it mocked "let's make a deal. I'll give you freezing cold water imported direct from the Arctic circle and you can just stand there turning my myriad of purposeless knob, questioning where the hot water reservoir could be, until you give up and stand there shivering and accept that you've booked an $8 hotel room." Defeated, I agreed.
As much as I wanted to hang out in my hotel room, it was time for me to do some of my own adventurin' around Da Lat. I wandered the streets amidst glances, stares, and the occasional Vietnamese shout out- apparently a 6'-4" tall lanky white guy gets alot of attention in Vietnam- actually, based on my travel experience, make that anywhere besides Western Europe. But especially in Da Lat.
CENTRAL MARKET: DELICACIES ABOUND
This white boy wandered his way to the central market, the more "local" or "ghetto" of the two markets. Descending the staircase into the market, I was immediately greeted with various large steel bowls holding nearly every Vietnamese delicacy: live toads, mounds of water snakes, thick eels, huge slimy catfish, and of course, Vietnamese dog- skinned and broiled. As a good American, I of course did my democratic duty by purchasing one of each of these animals, took them down to the lake, and set them free as a "freedom ritual". Each animal thanked me and happily swam off- except the dog- he just sank.
I continued through the market and found some great fresh apple-pear tasting fruits. I didn't ask, I just ate. And they were good. Real good. I left the market to book my bus back to Ho Chi Min, leaving Da Lat at 2pm, so that I could get back in time to go clubbin' up in da HCM. No- not by myslef- as if I desired a repeat of my CLUB RAIN experience- because I had met a kid named Ahn who worked at a restaurant in HCM who said a group of his friends were going out dancing on Saturday night at the "best clubs in the city", and that I could crash at his place for the night for free. At least that's what I was led to believe. So I hopped on the bus and got awesome time to read, write, and pray- all amidst frequent & sporadic horn-blowing from the bus driver.
Good news about not having anyone to talk with- you get time. It was incredible- I got to pray all the way through the alphabet for different people by first letter of first name. This method works out well for people with names with less common letter- let's just say Ingrid and Zald have gotten alot of prayers.
AHN: NOT WHAT I EXPECTED
I arrived back in Ho Chi Min and met Anh at his restaurant. Then he took me to find a hotel for myself- ok, not what I was thinking, but that's cool. After I checked in to literally the worst hotel I had been in yet, we were off. Off to some club that definitely really wanted to be uber swanky. Kind of like CLUB RAIN, but not as crappy. They definitely had the fruit platters. This is when things got strange.
Ahn took us to the bar, inquired about the price of a bottle of Jack Daniel's- 1 million dong ($57 U.S.). I told him I didn't want a half bottle of Jack Daniels. So Ahn proceeded to order 2 beers for us, and then looked me to pay. Reluctantly I did.
I kept asking Ahn where his friends were- he kept telling me that his friends would meet us soon. They never came. Ahn also kept telling me that I was "handsome man". I didn't think it possible, but he situation was actually getting weirder. After some awkward amount of time, Ahn informed me that it was time to leave. We went on our way- apparently to another club. But first we had to stop at his restaurant. I told him I was going to another bar. That's when I made my get-away. Luckily, I escaped and made it to my hotel room- alone. Thank God!
Friday, June 19, 2009
DA LAT: WHERE VIETNAM COMES TO "KICK IT"
Turns out I was the only white person in this beautiful French-influenced town this weekend. Which made for celebrity status.
DOWNGRADE THE PRICE, UPGRADE THE SURPRISE!
I awoke the next morning with little idea of what I would do. I decided to leave the ritzy $14/night hotel room I was in and venture into the mysterious land of the $8/night hotel room. This mysterious land brought with it pleasant surprises: pre-opened & used hotel bar soap (because opening it yourself is wasted effort), cheap see-through glass for one entire wall...to the outside, and a shower that is not only deviod of anything resembling warm water, but which also allows you to sit on the toilet while rinsing.
DUNG: NOT WHAT YOU'RE THINKING
The most pleasant surprise, however, came in the form of a man called Dung. No, not that kind of dung. It's pronounced "Yoong". But either way, it looks pretty funny on a business card. Dung is a Da Lat native, and is pretty much the best motorcycling tour guide in the greater Saigon area. Which is saying something. After Dung showed me a hand-written book of various people's praises for his guide skills (the Vietnamese version of Yelp!) I was ready to do it. Which meant hopping on the back of his motorcycle for the next 7 hours. And boy was it a ride!
Dung and I drove down into the valley below the town, showcasing a mix of lush tropical and more temperate environments. It was absolutely beautiful. Apparently, Da Lat is where Vietnam comes to kick it- and now I know why. The more reasonable temperatures, mountains, and rural countryside make it the "Santa Barbara" of Vietnam... if Santa Barbara's mean home price was closer to 15,000 bucks instead of 1.2 million.
Dung and I toured a silk-making factory, a flower farm, and a rice wine manufacturer. Very interesting. Dung took me to a gorgeous waterfall with a Buddhist shrine above it. We ate lunch together and talked about manly stuff... like history. After taking in the wonderful views and rich culture of the area, Dung and I motoed back up the mountain to Da Lat. At this point (4pm) we were going to part ways. But Dung and I had bonded so much... I couldn't let him go that easily. So I booked my next tour with him right then- starting right then. And once agian, we were off.
TALL LANKY WHITE BOY = AMERICAN MOVIE STAR
Dung drove me up to a lookout point with a view of the entire city. And as I was taking in, I was yelled at by a Vietnamese man who wanted me to come over there. "Picture!" he excalimed. Not wanting to disappoint, I walked over to find a line of 20 men and women with cameras, and a middle-aged Vietnamese woman standing in front, waiting for me to join her for this "Photo Opportunity With A Real American Celebrity". I think they thought I was from "the O.C." Either way, I put my arm around her, and cameras flickered. Then, another woman ran up to get her picture taken as well. I embraced her, as once again cameras went off. I also sent Dung into the camera barracade to get some shots of this famous moment in time.
Afterwards, we motoed up to an incredible Buddhist shrine, overlooking a picturesque lake with a forrested island in the middle and limestone-faced mountains in the background. And apparently this is where all of Vietnam was at this very moment. Cuz it was crowded. I mean, ASIAN amounts of crowded. And then, the planets aligned.
HELLA VIETNAMESE
Dung was informing me of different American colloquialisms that he had heard, like how Americans say "dope" to mean "cool". I confirmed that this was true. "In fact," I said, "it's dope to say 'dope'". Then, I when Dung commented on how many swarms of people were walking around, I took the opportunity to share with Dung some real-life Nor-Cal talk. "Dung", I said, "in California, when we want to say there is 'alot' of something, we use the word 'hella'. It's like combining the words 'hell' and 'of'. So, today we could say, 'there's hella people here today."' Dung really enjoyed this new-found knowledge. So much so that a few minutes later, as we were leaving, he turned to me and whispered, "There is the heller of the peoples here". Just like that. It was cute. I was proud.
VIETNAMESE ROLLER COASTERS: TAKING THE "THRILL" OUT OF "THRILL RIDE"
From here, we ventured to this incredible "roller coaster" ride, which was essentially a single-man cart on a track that curves down a hill. I hopped on and rode down- what a blast. Especially with the little kids in front being too scared to go fast, so the whole line got backed up and I found myself barely moving the entire time. But still- it was fun. Then I found a Vietnamese "cowboy" with a saddled horse for photo-ops. This made for some quality pictures when the man handed me two fake revolvers and a red cowboy hat and I saddled up.
After this, my time with Dung was finished. We parted ways, and he told me to add him on facebook. I'll do that soon. It's probably not exceedingly difficult to find his name in the search engine... not many "Dungs" floating around.
CLUB RAIN: NOT THAT COOL
That night I toured the main market, grabbed dinner, and hopped in a cab. "Take me somewhere kind of relzxed, with dancing, please." Club RAIN is where I was dropped off. Dancing - check. Strange fruit concoction platters for each table (this is a new one even for me) - check. Face-melting lights synced to bad trendy house electronica - check. Vietnamese people - check. Me - check. Needless to say, after about 5 minutes of Club RAIN, I went out to find the next taxi home.
DOWNGRADE THE PRICE, UPGRADE THE SURPRISE!
I awoke the next morning with little idea of what I would do. I decided to leave the ritzy $14/night hotel room I was in and venture into the mysterious land of the $8/night hotel room. This mysterious land brought with it pleasant surprises: pre-opened & used hotel bar soap (because opening it yourself is wasted effort), cheap see-through glass for one entire wall...to the outside, and a shower that is not only deviod of anything resembling warm water, but which also allows you to sit on the toilet while rinsing.
DUNG: NOT WHAT YOU'RE THINKING
The most pleasant surprise, however, came in the form of a man called Dung. No, not that kind of dung. It's pronounced "Yoong". But either way, it looks pretty funny on a business card. Dung is a Da Lat native, and is pretty much the best motorcycling tour guide in the greater Saigon area. Which is saying something. After Dung showed me a hand-written book of various people's praises for his guide skills (the Vietnamese version of Yelp!) I was ready to do it. Which meant hopping on the back of his motorcycle for the next 7 hours. And boy was it a ride!
Dung and I drove down into the valley below the town, showcasing a mix of lush tropical and more temperate environments. It was absolutely beautiful. Apparently, Da Lat is where Vietnam comes to kick it- and now I know why. The more reasonable temperatures, mountains, and rural countryside make it the "Santa Barbara" of Vietnam... if Santa Barbara's mean home price was closer to 15,000 bucks instead of 1.2 million.
Dung and I toured a silk-making factory, a flower farm, and a rice wine manufacturer. Very interesting. Dung took me to a gorgeous waterfall with a Buddhist shrine above it. We ate lunch together and talked about manly stuff... like history. After taking in the wonderful views and rich culture of the area, Dung and I motoed back up the mountain to Da Lat. At this point (4pm) we were going to part ways. But Dung and I had bonded so much... I couldn't let him go that easily. So I booked my next tour with him right then- starting right then. And once agian, we were off.
TALL LANKY WHITE BOY = AMERICAN MOVIE STAR
Dung drove me up to a lookout point with a view of the entire city. And as I was taking in, I was yelled at by a Vietnamese man who wanted me to come over there. "Picture!" he excalimed. Not wanting to disappoint, I walked over to find a line of 20 men and women with cameras, and a middle-aged Vietnamese woman standing in front, waiting for me to join her for this "Photo Opportunity With A Real American Celebrity". I think they thought I was from "the O.C." Either way, I put my arm around her, and cameras flickered. Then, another woman ran up to get her picture taken as well. I embraced her, as once again cameras went off. I also sent Dung into the camera barracade to get some shots of this famous moment in time.
Afterwards, we motoed up to an incredible Buddhist shrine, overlooking a picturesque lake with a forrested island in the middle and limestone-faced mountains in the background. And apparently this is where all of Vietnam was at this very moment. Cuz it was crowded. I mean, ASIAN amounts of crowded. And then, the planets aligned.
HELLA VIETNAMESE
Dung was informing me of different American colloquialisms that he had heard, like how Americans say "dope" to mean "cool". I confirmed that this was true. "In fact," I said, "it's dope to say 'dope'". Then, I when Dung commented on how many swarms of people were walking around, I took the opportunity to share with Dung some real-life Nor-Cal talk. "Dung", I said, "in California, when we want to say there is 'alot' of something, we use the word 'hella'. It's like combining the words 'hell' and 'of'. So, today we could say, 'there's hella people here today."' Dung really enjoyed this new-found knowledge. So much so that a few minutes later, as we were leaving, he turned to me and whispered, "There is the heller of the peoples here". Just like that. It was cute. I was proud.
VIETNAMESE ROLLER COASTERS: TAKING THE "THRILL" OUT OF "THRILL RIDE"
From here, we ventured to this incredible "roller coaster" ride, which was essentially a single-man cart on a track that curves down a hill. I hopped on and rode down- what a blast. Especially with the little kids in front being too scared to go fast, so the whole line got backed up and I found myself barely moving the entire time. But still- it was fun. Then I found a Vietnamese "cowboy" with a saddled horse for photo-ops. This made for some quality pictures when the man handed me two fake revolvers and a red cowboy hat and I saddled up.
After this, my time with Dung was finished. We parted ways, and he told me to add him on facebook. I'll do that soon. It's probably not exceedingly difficult to find his name in the search engine... not many "Dungs" floating around.
CLUB RAIN: NOT THAT COOL
That night I toured the main market, grabbed dinner, and hopped in a cab. "Take me somewhere kind of relzxed, with dancing, please." Club RAIN is where I was dropped off. Dancing - check. Strange fruit concoction platters for each table (this is a new one even for me) - check. Face-melting lights synced to bad trendy house electronica - check. Vietnamese people - check. Me - check. Needless to say, after about 5 minutes of Club RAIN, I went out to find the next taxi home.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
HO CHI MIN CITY
Ya know... that place that you probably thought was named "Saigon" from that musical... well it's not anymore.
MOTORBIKES MOTORBIKES MOTORBIKES!
I cannot emphasize to you enough how many motorbikes scoot through the bustling streets of this SE Asian metropolis. Awakening from the Metropole Hotel and walking out into the motorbike mayhem of HCM city sent more of a jolt to the senses than shooting 5 espressos while simultaneously jamming a fork into a light socket. A tour guide later informed me that the city boasts 8 million residents... and 4.5 million motorbikes. I think that's a low-ball estimate.
Everyone just literally walks through perpetual traffic. So... I quickly adapted to my environment by clinging next to old Vietnamese women who seemed to have much wisdom in crossing the treacherous intersections. Soon enough I was a pro- and though I remained a bit frightened, I made certain to hide my fear from the old women.
WAR MUSEUM
After a quick tour through the indoor central market (the same t-shirt shop multiplied 50 times), I walked toward the Vietnamese War Memorial Museum. On my way I was greeted by an extremely persistant rickshaw driver named Mun. After telling him I would rather walk many times and in many ways, Mun eventually won my heart. I agreed to travel in his rickshaw- but only to the museum. He replied,"Ok. 6 dollars." I hopped in, and we were off. It was strange being pedaled around in front of the locals- I felt like some rich exploitative American kid feeding off of their people and culture. If only they knew I was an unemployed American kid who would rather do a walking tour! Eventually I relaxed and Mun and I had a great time. He taught me some Vietnamese phrases, and before I knew it we arrived.
The war museum seems more of a Vietnamese propaganda piece than a museum. It is essentially a collection of photos with captions showing all of the atrosities that the "American enemy" inflicted upon the natives. It was so interesting and different to see the opposite side of the story. In fact, the films and displays they show glorify the killing of American soldiers. They gave out medals not for courage or bravery but for how many Americans killed. It was very saddening and difficult to see- for both sides.
I left the museum and toured the city with Mun to visit pagodas and shrines, the Saigon river, and some shops. And then it was 3pm. Mun told me he was tired, and I said that's fine- I will walk around. Then came the time for payment. "You pay me for 5 hours", said Mun. "Uhm, it's only been 4 hours" I replied. "Ok. 4 hours. 24 dollars", he said. "No- you said 6 dollars", I replied. This went on for a while, back and forth. Eventually I agreed to pay him $20. He was NOT happy. I walked away. I'm sad that we parted on a sour note, but I felt cheated by his witholding the fact that our trip together would cost $6 every hour and not $6 total. Mun, if you're out there- I'm sorry for the misunderstanding- but you shouldn't have misled me. If you ever visit San Francisco I will put you on my shoulders and bike you around for free. Promise.
WATER PUPPETS: THE POCAHONTAS ON ICE OF VIETNAM
After walking the city for a while, it was off to the Vietnamese Water Puppet Show. This is like... ALL the rage in Veitnamese family-friendly entertainment. It is for Vietnamese families what "Pocahontas: On Ice" is for American families". Or maybe it's more like the SE Asian version of "Puppeteering 4 Christ". Either way, it's fun for the kids and relief for the parents. And then there was me.
Essentially, they have a stage with a pond of brownish water, and 8 men comandeer different puppets: people, dragons, fish, water tigers; from behind a screen. It is actually very entertaining and quite well done. And the kids LOVE it. Especially the cutest Vietnamese 5-year-old ever, sitting by me, entranced by the show, complete with crooked glasses in front and a rat tail in back.
After the show I hopped on the back of a Vietnamese motorbike for the first time. And my mother would be proud to know that I insisted on a helmet that fit. And then I wore it. The ride was hectic- weaving in and out of clusters of bikes, motorbikes, cars, buses, and rickshaws. But in that moment I knew I was alive. And it was great.
IN DA CLUB: VIETNAM
The driver dropped me off and I went out and met some new friends at a bar just down from my hotel. Most were from England, some Aussies, a Canadian nicknamed Johnny Vegas... pretty typical. Most had been traveling for months already. Made my trip seem like a joke. But I got good suggestions of places to check out- apparently Da Lat, Vietnam is the place to be. It's where Vietnam vacations. We ended up at some dance club bumping all American top-40 mashups. It was definitely far from what I had anticipated from my visit to Vietnam. And yet it felt a bit like home. So I danced.
Eventually, it was 4:30am and I had to leave for Da Lat the next day, so I left the group as they continued amidst the laser lights and "T Pain" remixes. And by 5am it was off to sleep.
THE ROAD TO DA LAT. CONDUCIVE TO PRAYER.
The following morning came quick. But I was ready. I left the hotel in the morning to run some errands, and booked a bus ticket for Da Lat. At 4pm we left the city, and embarked upon one of the closest-to-death rides I've experienced. Basically, the entire 7-hour drive is a 2-lane highway which holds on it tourist buses and transport vehicles speeding at a crazed pace in each direction. This alone would be potentially hazardous, but that's not it. Add in the constant slew of motorbike drivers, cruising at half the speed of the buses, and you begin to see the issue. In order to keep from hitting the lone teenager on a motorbike, the bus drivers on both sides constantly dart into the opposite lane, directly into oncoming traffic. Apparently, the dangerous nature of this situation is remedied by the bus driver incessantly honking his horn at motorbikes and buses in the oncoming lane. In all seriousness, I sat in front, and the bus driver did not stop honking for more than 30 seconds for the entire 7 hour drive. As you can imagine, this breeds an environment that is extremely conducive to reading and sleeping.
I prayed alot on that drive. I prayed for my family, for people at home, for people here in Vietnam. But I prayed earnestly that we wouldn't all die on that bus ride.
God answered my prayers. We arrived in Da Lat safe and sound at 11pm. Thank you God!
After much confusion as to how to get to my hotel, a private bus driver told me to hop into his bus and he would take me to my hotel- he knew where it was. So I got in. And we proceeded to drive LITERALLY 1/2 block. And then he told me to get out. So...apparently I had arrived. I checked in and settled in to garner some rest before the next day.
MOTORBIKES MOTORBIKES MOTORBIKES!
I cannot emphasize to you enough how many motorbikes scoot through the bustling streets of this SE Asian metropolis. Awakening from the Metropole Hotel and walking out into the motorbike mayhem of HCM city sent more of a jolt to the senses than shooting 5 espressos while simultaneously jamming a fork into a light socket. A tour guide later informed me that the city boasts 8 million residents... and 4.5 million motorbikes. I think that's a low-ball estimate.
Everyone just literally walks through perpetual traffic. So... I quickly adapted to my environment by clinging next to old Vietnamese women who seemed to have much wisdom in crossing the treacherous intersections. Soon enough I was a pro- and though I remained a bit frightened, I made certain to hide my fear from the old women.
WAR MUSEUM
After a quick tour through the indoor central market (the same t-shirt shop multiplied 50 times), I walked toward the Vietnamese War Memorial Museum. On my way I was greeted by an extremely persistant rickshaw driver named Mun. After telling him I would rather walk many times and in many ways, Mun eventually won my heart. I agreed to travel in his rickshaw- but only to the museum. He replied,"Ok. 6 dollars." I hopped in, and we were off. It was strange being pedaled around in front of the locals- I felt like some rich exploitative American kid feeding off of their people and culture. If only they knew I was an unemployed American kid who would rather do a walking tour! Eventually I relaxed and Mun and I had a great time. He taught me some Vietnamese phrases, and before I knew it we arrived.
The war museum seems more of a Vietnamese propaganda piece than a museum. It is essentially a collection of photos with captions showing all of the atrosities that the "American enemy" inflicted upon the natives. It was so interesting and different to see the opposite side of the story. In fact, the films and displays they show glorify the killing of American soldiers. They gave out medals not for courage or bravery but for how many Americans killed. It was very saddening and difficult to see- for both sides.
I left the museum and toured the city with Mun to visit pagodas and shrines, the Saigon river, and some shops. And then it was 3pm. Mun told me he was tired, and I said that's fine- I will walk around. Then came the time for payment. "You pay me for 5 hours", said Mun. "Uhm, it's only been 4 hours" I replied. "Ok. 4 hours. 24 dollars", he said. "No- you said 6 dollars", I replied. This went on for a while, back and forth. Eventually I agreed to pay him $20. He was NOT happy. I walked away. I'm sad that we parted on a sour note, but I felt cheated by his witholding the fact that our trip together would cost $6 every hour and not $6 total. Mun, if you're out there- I'm sorry for the misunderstanding- but you shouldn't have misled me. If you ever visit San Francisco I will put you on my shoulders and bike you around for free. Promise.
WATER PUPPETS: THE POCAHONTAS ON ICE OF VIETNAM
After walking the city for a while, it was off to the Vietnamese Water Puppet Show. This is like... ALL the rage in Veitnamese family-friendly entertainment. It is for Vietnamese families what "Pocahontas: On Ice" is for American families". Or maybe it's more like the SE Asian version of "Puppeteering 4 Christ". Either way, it's fun for the kids and relief for the parents. And then there was me.
Essentially, they have a stage with a pond of brownish water, and 8 men comandeer different puppets: people, dragons, fish, water tigers; from behind a screen. It is actually very entertaining and quite well done. And the kids LOVE it. Especially the cutest Vietnamese 5-year-old ever, sitting by me, entranced by the show, complete with crooked glasses in front and a rat tail in back.
After the show I hopped on the back of a Vietnamese motorbike for the first time. And my mother would be proud to know that I insisted on a helmet that fit. And then I wore it. The ride was hectic- weaving in and out of clusters of bikes, motorbikes, cars, buses, and rickshaws. But in that moment I knew I was alive. And it was great.
IN DA CLUB: VIETNAM
The driver dropped me off and I went out and met some new friends at a bar just down from my hotel. Most were from England, some Aussies, a Canadian nicknamed Johnny Vegas... pretty typical. Most had been traveling for months already. Made my trip seem like a joke. But I got good suggestions of places to check out- apparently Da Lat, Vietnam is the place to be. It's where Vietnam vacations. We ended up at some dance club bumping all American top-40 mashups. It was definitely far from what I had anticipated from my visit to Vietnam. And yet it felt a bit like home. So I danced.
Eventually, it was 4:30am and I had to leave for Da Lat the next day, so I left the group as they continued amidst the laser lights and "T Pain" remixes. And by 5am it was off to sleep.
THE ROAD TO DA LAT. CONDUCIVE TO PRAYER.
The following morning came quick. But I was ready. I left the hotel in the morning to run some errands, and booked a bus ticket for Da Lat. At 4pm we left the city, and embarked upon one of the closest-to-death rides I've experienced. Basically, the entire 7-hour drive is a 2-lane highway which holds on it tourist buses and transport vehicles speeding at a crazed pace in each direction. This alone would be potentially hazardous, but that's not it. Add in the constant slew of motorbike drivers, cruising at half the speed of the buses, and you begin to see the issue. In order to keep from hitting the lone teenager on a motorbike, the bus drivers on both sides constantly dart into the opposite lane, directly into oncoming traffic. Apparently, the dangerous nature of this situation is remedied by the bus driver incessantly honking his horn at motorbikes and buses in the oncoming lane. In all seriousness, I sat in front, and the bus driver did not stop honking for more than 30 seconds for the entire 7 hour drive. As you can imagine, this breeds an environment that is extremely conducive to reading and sleeping.
I prayed alot on that drive. I prayed for my family, for people at home, for people here in Vietnam. But I prayed earnestly that we wouldn't all die on that bus ride.
God answered my prayers. We arrived in Da Lat safe and sound at 11pm. Thank you God!
After much confusion as to how to get to my hotel, a private bus driver told me to hop into his bus and he would take me to my hotel- he knew where it was. So I got in. And we proceeded to drive LITERALLY 1/2 block. And then he told me to get out. So...apparently I had arrived. I checked in and settled in to garner some rest before the next day.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Viet-freakin-NAM!
In the wise words of Forrest Gump: "Vietnam- it's this whole other country." Vietnam isn't a whole other country. It's a whole other planet.
ARRIVAL IN HO CHI MIN CITY
My plane left Tokyo and flew 6 hours direct to Ho Chi Min, Vietnam. Talk about culture shock. Believe the hype- it's crazy. I arrived to swarms of taxi drivers offering me a ride to the city. Eventually I found a nice looking man who offered a ride for $13. "$13?", I scoffed. "That's as much as I would pay in San Francisco!" After searching for competitive bids, I realized this was the lowest. So I hopped into his 1982 Mazda hatchback, and after the car wouldn't start and he had his boss open the hood and fiddle around for a while, we were rollin'. Rollin' deep.
Come to find out, this $13 cab ride was 45 minutes long, and probably would have cost closer to $100 in San Francisco. Needless to say, I was happy to pay when we arrived safely.... after nearly hitting at least 15 Vietnamese moped drivers.
We arrived at the Metropole Hotel- an extremely nice and modern hotel (compliments of Wendy Ridenour). I checked in, and after getting settled, it was off to my sleek, modernist bed for some modernist sleep.
ARRIVAL IN HO CHI MIN CITY
My plane left Tokyo and flew 6 hours direct to Ho Chi Min, Vietnam. Talk about culture shock. Believe the hype- it's crazy. I arrived to swarms of taxi drivers offering me a ride to the city. Eventually I found a nice looking man who offered a ride for $13. "$13?", I scoffed. "That's as much as I would pay in San Francisco!" After searching for competitive bids, I realized this was the lowest. So I hopped into his 1982 Mazda hatchback, and after the car wouldn't start and he had his boss open the hood and fiddle around for a while, we were rollin'. Rollin' deep.
Come to find out, this $13 cab ride was 45 minutes long, and probably would have cost closer to $100 in San Francisco. Needless to say, I was happy to pay when we arrived safely.... after nearly hitting at least 15 Vietnamese moped drivers.
We arrived at the Metropole Hotel- an extremely nice and modern hotel (compliments of Wendy Ridenour). I checked in, and after getting settled, it was off to my sleek, modernist bed for some modernist sleep.
Monday, June 15, 2009
TOKYO! (continued)
JAPANESE BREAKFAST PASTA SANDWICHES
In the morning Brandon and I awoke and began our adventures through Tokyo. This began with getting lost in an underground shopping network within a prominent office building, and ended with us buying pasta sandwiches for breakfast. And actually, pasta sandwiches aren't bad. They're not quite pasta burritos, but still...
Pasta sandwiches in hand, we toured the Imperial Palace, a serene area of traditional Shinto buildings amidst Japanese gardens, where the government does governmental stuff. Yeah, it's that good. In fact, Brandon told me that during the Japanese housing boom of the 90's that this area of land in central Tokyo was valued at more than the entire state of California. While I find that hard to believe, it puts things into perspective- things like how nice this place is.
Shi-BOOYA!
From here we caught the train to SHIBUYA! If the name doesn't give it away, this place is hip. Hip to the max. It's the center of everything youth. In the world. Technology, fashion, food...anything that comes out tomorrow is already out of style. The iPHONE? Please. They had that in Shibuya back in 1978. Winding through the streets there is the closest thing to being in an anime film that I've ever experienced.
HARAJUKU: GWEN STEFANI WOULD BE PROUD
From Shibuya we walked through another gigantic public park, culminating in a fantasticly detailed Shinto shrine. Then, on to Harajuku- the artsy district made famous by Gwen Stefani's obsession with the masses of suburban Japanese teenage girls who dress up in costumes all the time and just walk around. It's interesting. Harajuku was actually my favorite district, as it was more livable and walkable than the rest of the city. Many houses and small alleyways in between low-rise buildings. Although the constant masses of girls in costumes could possibly get old...
Our final stop was a walk over to the Prada store, designed by Herzog & DeMeuron. A 5-level stand-alone tower that uses diagonal bracing for the structure, as well as to hold the glass skin. I walked in looking just like what I am- a cheap, unemployed 20-something american- obviously not going to buy a $1,700 messenger bag. But I had to tour the space. And it was beautiful. And I wasn't even asked to leave.
The tour of Tokyo was over. Brandon and I trained back to his hotel, and I grabbed my stuff. By this time I was cutting it close. Little did Matt know how close...
CUTTIN' IT CLOSE IN THE LARGEST METROPOLIS ON EARTH
Brandon and I said our goodbyes and I ran to catch the train for my 6:05pm flight... which I thought was at 6:30pm. As an American, navigating through the Tokyo train/subway/metro system is like being dropped in the middle of the forest and being told to find St. Petersburg. You're lost. Basically, I had to transfer 6 times, getting on multiple different types of trains... I think at one point I was on a hovercraft. Needless to say, this whole process took WAY longer than anticipated, and when I realized that my plane left half hour earlier than expected, I started praying.
I arrived at the busiest airport in Asia, Tokyo Narita, 30 minutes before my flight to Vietnam left. Not good. I ran up 3 flights of stairs, carrying my entire life with me for the next 2 months. After what seemed like 2 hours of running, I reached the check-in desk. The lady told me "You have no time". "Tell me about it", I responded. She called for an agent to rush me through the special security check, and she ran me to the entrance gate. AND.... I MADE IT! Whoo! With time to spare! From now on I'm ALWAYS doing it this way- tour the city for maximum amount of time, and don't wait in security lines. I had my cake and ate it too. Praise the Lord.
My good friend Adam Snell once told me that "God is glorified in you Matt, because you get yourself into situations where only God can save you, and then when He does save you, God gets to display His power." I like that.
In the morning Brandon and I awoke and began our adventures through Tokyo. This began with getting lost in an underground shopping network within a prominent office building, and ended with us buying pasta sandwiches for breakfast. And actually, pasta sandwiches aren't bad. They're not quite pasta burritos, but still...
Pasta sandwiches in hand, we toured the Imperial Palace, a serene area of traditional Shinto buildings amidst Japanese gardens, where the government does governmental stuff. Yeah, it's that good. In fact, Brandon told me that during the Japanese housing boom of the 90's that this area of land in central Tokyo was valued at more than the entire state of California. While I find that hard to believe, it puts things into perspective- things like how nice this place is.
Shi-BOOYA!
From here we caught the train to SHIBUYA! If the name doesn't give it away, this place is hip. Hip to the max. It's the center of everything youth. In the world. Technology, fashion, food...anything that comes out tomorrow is already out of style. The iPHONE? Please. They had that in Shibuya back in 1978. Winding through the streets there is the closest thing to being in an anime film that I've ever experienced.
HARAJUKU: GWEN STEFANI WOULD BE PROUD
From Shibuya we walked through another gigantic public park, culminating in a fantasticly detailed Shinto shrine. Then, on to Harajuku- the artsy district made famous by Gwen Stefani's obsession with the masses of suburban Japanese teenage girls who dress up in costumes all the time and just walk around. It's interesting. Harajuku was actually my favorite district, as it was more livable and walkable than the rest of the city. Many houses and small alleyways in between low-rise buildings. Although the constant masses of girls in costumes could possibly get old...
Our final stop was a walk over to the Prada store, designed by Herzog & DeMeuron. A 5-level stand-alone tower that uses diagonal bracing for the structure, as well as to hold the glass skin. I walked in looking just like what I am- a cheap, unemployed 20-something american- obviously not going to buy a $1,700 messenger bag. But I had to tour the space. And it was beautiful. And I wasn't even asked to leave.
The tour of Tokyo was over. Brandon and I trained back to his hotel, and I grabbed my stuff. By this time I was cutting it close. Little did Matt know how close...
CUTTIN' IT CLOSE IN THE LARGEST METROPOLIS ON EARTH
Brandon and I said our goodbyes and I ran to catch the train for my 6:05pm flight... which I thought was at 6:30pm. As an American, navigating through the Tokyo train/subway/metro system is like being dropped in the middle of the forest and being told to find St. Petersburg. You're lost. Basically, I had to transfer 6 times, getting on multiple different types of trains... I think at one point I was on a hovercraft. Needless to say, this whole process took WAY longer than anticipated, and when I realized that my plane left half hour earlier than expected, I started praying.
I arrived at the busiest airport in Asia, Tokyo Narita, 30 minutes before my flight to Vietnam left. Not good. I ran up 3 flights of stairs, carrying my entire life with me for the next 2 months. After what seemed like 2 hours of running, I reached the check-in desk. The lady told me "You have no time". "Tell me about it", I responded. She called for an agent to rush me through the special security check, and she ran me to the entrance gate. AND.... I MADE IT! Whoo! With time to spare! From now on I'm ALWAYS doing it this way- tour the city for maximum amount of time, and don't wait in security lines. I had my cake and ate it too. Praise the Lord.
My good friend Adam Snell once told me that "God is glorified in you Matt, because you get yourself into situations where only God can save you, and then when He does save you, God gets to display His power." I like that.
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