Things

Things That Remind Me I’m Not in Pakistan
- I saw a girl walking down the street wearing black booty shorts that looked as though they’d been shrink-wrapped to her body
- I don’t hear prayers broadcast in Urdu over public loudspeakers five times a day
- Every single eating establishment I’ve been to has a plentiful supply of alcohol, and people aren’t afraid to use it

Things that Remind Me I’m Not in the USA
- A hotel minibar that consists of ramen in chicken and chicken curry flavors, a pack of cigarettes, and a lighter
- People smoking anywhere and everywhere
- A “bathroom” that was a semi-circular screen made of palm leaves that faced the back of a restaurant

Today was probably more time in the car than I’d ever want to spend, although I’ve taken longer road trips. It’s just that this isn’t really a road trip, and it’s not even like my visit to Sanghar District in Pakistan. This is just me and two other people on the project, and a driver, driving the project roads, with no playful banter about where to stop for lunch of what music to listen to. We don’t stop to meet people who might be affected by the project, I have no idea what I’m looking at when I see things that are cool, so it’s basically just…driving in virtual silence, no music, and not a whole lot of conversation. I think that future field trips out here, assuming that I do more work on this project, are likely to be more interesting, but the project manager wanted us to just get a feel for the area. Well, I think it’s safe to say that I’ve got one after two solid days of driving, with a third one on the way!

I do, however, think that I’ve managed to get some good pictures. The other problem with this trip being so purely functional is that I can’t really say “hey, can you pull over – I want to take a picture of that!”, so I’ve taken some pictures out the window that I really hope will come out. I have no idea what the shutter speed is on my camera, since it’s an automatic everything, but if it’s fast enough, some of them may have worked. If not, I haven’t taken all my pictures like that, and I got some really cool ones in Vinh Long this morning.

I am currently writing from a much more hygienically sound hotel room in a city called Can Tho (pronounced “cahn toe”), which is the biggest city in the Mekong Delta region. By the time we got here, it was already dark, so I don’t have much of an impression of the place yet, but I already like it better than Vinh Long. I wouldn’t think that being vegetarian in this part of the world would be too difficult, since most people live on rice and vegetables anyway. But the Vietnamese are dedicated carnivores, and fish is very prevalent, among other things like chicken, eel, squid, pork, and dog. My efforts yesterday to try to be a good sport and try to eat some things that had been cooked with fish didn’t turn out too well, so today, I knew that I’d have to be more of a pain. As most of you know, I’ll try anything as long as it doesn’t have meat in it, and I don’t generally consider myself picky, apart from that. Well, I ordered mixed vegetable broth for lunch with some rice. They brought me something with shrimp and pork that wasn’t remotely broth-like, so I’m guessing they misunderstood what I was pointing to on the menu. We clarified, and I had a little rice while waiting for my broth with veggies. Broth with veggies apparently comes with big ol’ hunks of pork in it. So that was a miss as well. Since everyone else was almost done with what they were eating, I decided to have some more rice and that would be fine – although we stopped for fruit later, fortunately, because two small bowls of rice just wasn’t doing it.

We had a really long day of winding around rural roads, some of which were only roads in the technical sense – they didn’t have trees right in the middle, and were basically clear of vegetation, but it was like being on a rollercoaster some of the time. It helped to underline for me the necessity of this project, seeing people try to get places on this rutted mud track on their bicycles or motorcycles. It was difficult enough for us in a four-wheel drive vehicle. Then that sound came – that rush of tropical rain that comes on so quickly and can soak you inside of thirty seconds. Most people on two-wheeled transport, which is most people, pull over for shelter in someone’s house or store, as the rain is very intense and can be dangerous. The unpaved roads can then become unbelievably slippery and it’s easy to get stuck. It’s interesting to look at the sky here, though. I know that this is a term generally applied to parts of the western US, but the sky here just looks so big. It’s enormous, and it makes you feel really tiny when you stop to think about it. So to see the charcoal-colored storm clouds rolling in toward you can be quite the sight to behold. I got a couple pictures, but I have no idea if it’s actually going to capture that feeling.

We stopped for a break to let the driver fuel up on some caffeine, and I asked where the ladies room was. We were in a café that was in a but made of woven palm leaves, which was what they could afford, not an attempt at tiki kitsch, and the girl pointed out to the back. I headed to the back and saw nothing other than a little semicircular screen of woven palm leaves, about six feet high, resting on some rocks. I thought “well, that can’t be right…” and went back to ask the girl, or rather, mime to the girl, that I didn’t quite understand. She smiled and pointed again to the screen. I stood there for a second, then said to myself “suck it up, Princess, this is your only option, you’ve peed in the woods many a time and this isn’t that different, so just go for it.” That was almost enough of a pep talk, and I headed over, and then I saw the opening faced the back of the café next door, where several people were calmly having a drink and talking. Having an audience was too much for me, and I was going to resign myself to crossing my legs for the next few hours, when one of the neighbors came over and offered to let me use their restroom out back. I have never been so grateful to anyone in my life.

The route we had to take was ideally supposed to have two loops, and we were going to do the inner loop in the morning, and the outer loop in the afternoon, as it was going to drop us closer to our final destination. We’d been in the car for about seven hours as we were traveling up the last leg of the outer loop, and we happened upon an interesting discovery. The road was under construction, and completely impassable due in part to a missing bridge, despite being clearly marked as whole and complete on the handy-dandy map we were using. This only became a real problem because the road network here isn’t exactly extensive – that’s why we have a job to do. So it meant that we had to double back over about 90 minutes worth of roads. It reminded me of a scene from “Speed”, where the people on the bus have to jump over a gap in a bridge because construction has fallen behind and it’s incomplete. The police captain supervising the whole operation says “What??? But it’s finished on the map! That’s it, you’re all fired, everyone is fired!!!”

We had to take one last ferry tonight to get into Can Tho, and it’s a very popular one, as evidenced by the massive line of cars, trucks, motorcycles, scooters, and bicycles waiting to get on. As we were waiting in line, calmly minding our own business, someone came up and started banging on the windows, really hard. He was yelling something, and our driver was yelling back, as he locked the doors. My first instinct was to think that this was my fault, as I am a freak magnet – just ask Jenn Bowes McCann who was with me as I was serenaded by some guy singing “PYT” on Boylston Street in Boston one night. After some other guy had asked if Jenn and I were sisters. Jenn is about five or six inches shorter than me, and she’s half Korean. If there is someone with a chemical imbalance or emotional disorder within a five-mile radius, they will find me irresistible, it’s a proven fact.

I was delighted to find out, however, that this guy is a fixture in the area, and while I’m not quite sure what his deal is, he basically tells people that he has to drive their car over to Can Tho or something. I didn’t get the full explanation. The police are aware of this guy, and he’s been told not to get on the actual ferry or bad things will happen to him. He is, however, allowed to harass people waiting to get on the ferry, since the police know he does it and do nothing about it. I don’t understand it, but at least my gift for attracting weirdoes doesn’t appear to translate in foreign countries – at least, not in Vietnam. Well, not yet.

We eventually rolled into Can Tho around 7:30, checked into the hotel, and headed straight for dinner. I had only had two small bowls of rice and some fruit the entire day, so I was definitely in need of a little food, and fortunately there were several restaurants within walking distance. The first two restaurants we passed were hosting weddings, and let me tell you, the Vietnamese do not waste a party. There was music blaring, people shouting and laughing and dancing, decorations and pictures everywhere. It looked like a lot of fun. The third restaurant we went to did not have a wedding, although most of the staff were standing in the doorway staring at the wedding across the street. It also had a nice, big “vegetarian” section on their menu, for which I was very grateful.

After a delicious dinner, we headed back to our very nice hotel. There are no geckos on the walls, and it’s a good deal nicer, by which I mean cleaner, than the place we stayed last night. That was the type of situation where my little silk sleeping bag comes in handy – best purchase I ever made, and perfect for staying in places with a somewhat casual approach to hygiene. Originally the project was supposed to be based here in Can Tho, but the project manager nixed it, citing the lack of things to do when we weren’t working. I have to say, I know very little of Can Tho, but I like enough things about Ho Chi Minh City to be grateful for that decision. Not, of course, that I know whether or not I’ll be heading back to Vietnam. I wouldn’t mind, but I’m definitely looking forward to some time at home – a month or two, at least. I don’t know how all of this scheduling is going to work out, as they’re also considering bringing me back to Pakistan for that project as well at a later time, but that’s really not my problem at the moment. And I have a feeling that they won’t tell me until a couple weeks beforehand, if past experience (i.e. this one) is anything to go by.

It seems crazy to think about coming back here again in a few months, but that’s part of this job, I suppose. And I did say I wanted to travel. Well, like I said before, I’ll know when it’s time to quit – I just don’t think it’s time yet. I’ve got a couple more continents to visit, and some more pages in my passport to fill…