On our way home, during that infamous four-hour trip back from Mekong, we chanced upon a very large field with all of these guys hovering above us.
How cool is this???!!!
These folks know how to do kites!!!!
These were taken through the bus windows so apologies for “quality”, but I think they came out just fine! The last one will give you a sense of ‘scale’ as I did not zoom in and left then foregrounds intact.
Nothing better than a kite to ‘lift’ one’s spirits!
Ok! The Blog Mailbox is overflowing (2!) with requests to see the results of that haircut! I did not have a photo taken directly afterwards so I needed to scour the Internet in order to find one of me on the Web. I guess that it was the way that he cut it…… clippers and scissors at flying paces with nary a measuring clipper-guard in sight! one false move and I’d end up looking like a Marine Corps recruit on their first day!
The best part is that every time I wash my hair it still comes out great! No sticky-up parts that need to be plastered down! Feel free to download these photos for use on your kitchen dartboards!
To describe this trip as a whirlwind would be that proverbial understatement!
Relax? Not a chance!
But then, that’s not why we’re doing this!
I feel that one of my usual features of traveling, documenting such, has almost taken a backseat, mostly because I do feel the need to sleep every now and then.
But why should you suffer? If you are reading this then you either have a penchant for seeing some fun, far-away places or you are a person who revels in inflicting oneself with useless drivel. As the Old Monk says in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade…. “Choose wisely.”
So, here assembled before you is an incredibly good example of that useless drivel…..
I went for a haircut a few days before we left but neglected too check out and confirm the actual cutting number of the clippers used for a beard trim. So, it looked neat and tidy for a while, but soon I looked like I was trying out for a stand-in role in an upcoming reality program, The Bushmen of Vietnam. I mentioned to Captain Phil that getting a haircut would be nice. A few days later he came to me and said, “Let’s go!” A look of questionality (new word!) must have crossed my face because he just made some gestures of “hair clipping” as I smiled knowingly. This was in my new favorite city of Hoi An where we have fortuitously bought a small two-bedroom flat above a combination Chocolate / Book / RV repair facility. (it’s the only one like it in the whole region!). The extra room is for any of you to come over and visit!
Anyway, I follow Phil as he winds his way through the ancient streets until we come to a barber shop, complete with the twisty, red, white, and blue barber pole. This must be part of some groundbreaking UN International Agreement or something because there it was, doing its twirly thing as customers waited patiently. I, on the other hand, waited with some trepidation because I couldn’t understand a word that was said in the hasty exchange between Phil and the Manager (who was about 25). I guess Phil wanted to make sure that I got the Head Guy because several customers went ahead of me to the waiting chairs of the other three barbers who were at least 22 years old!
I sat there watching in somewhat trepidation as these guys work like Ninjas on crack as they clipped, sliced, diced, and whirled their ways through various styles of cuts and fashions upon their victims heads. I succumbed to this visage and said to myself, “No worries Donny, it’ll grow back…..someday.”
My turn finally arrived, indicated by the Manger looking over at me and somewhat franticly gesturing that he needs me in his chair. He seemed friendly enough, we exchanged smiles and that was all, as there was no time after that for conversation, clippers, scissors, combs, all various and sundry implements of destruction were flying about my head and ultimately, my throat, as all I really needed was a beard trim.
I did know that Phil said that he would be back to pick me up as I had no idea where I was. The Al Stewart song, ‘Year of the Cat” kept playing in my freaked-out brain….
On a morning from a Bogart movie
In a country where they turn back time
You go strolling through the crowd like Peter Lorre
Contemplating a crime……
By the blue tiled walls near the market stalls
There’s a hidden door she leads you to…..
Well, old Al didn’t get out in time as you may recall, he “Lost his ticket” as “The bus and the tourists are gone…”
I was seeing my old life pass before me until the Cloak of Gray Hair Clippings came whipping off and I was directed to a very narrow stairway leading to the loft above. I looked at my executioner with what must have been a look of horror as he burst into laughter (maniacal?) and indicated by hand gestures that I was going for a hair wash.
OK.
Up the stairs, sidestepping along the way, as that was the only way to fit, I poked through the upstairs floor and found several others there in several stages of getting hair dyes. “Ok, this is good, at least there will be witnesses” I thought to myself. I was directed to a table which looked rather uncomfortable (it was) and I proceeded to lay down (the wrong way) as I scanned the top and bottom for signs of it really being some sort of “Rack” that I would be stretched on. No worries there as that is not their modus operandi.
Thankfully I was just waterboarded.
With cold water.
Apparently my usual “MVP Experience” at Sport Clips is not something that made it into that UN Agreement because by the time I got situated the correct way the next thing I know I’ve got cold water streaming down my face as a soap of questionable origin and fragrance is applied and then just as quickly rinsed out. Luckily my inhalation reflex was curtailed as soon as that cold water hit my face because I survived the waterboarding and was duly ushered back down from the Tower to my chair in the Dungeon below.
All the while this was going on my Executioner was spending an inordinate amount of time on his phone. I wished that he would just pay attention to my situation and leave his personal stuff for later. But little did I realize that he was trying to coordinate the arrival of my Freedom Fighter, Phil and the culmination of my Services.
Apparently he was not successful.
Yelling something to the other three assailants on the other side of the shop, he grabbed my arm and we exited out into the bright sunlight (I’m free!) until he jumps on his motorbike and indicates for me to get on behind him. There must have been something in that “tonic/shampoo” that made me delirious because here was my chance to escape and I found myself sitting behind him as we shredded the crowds in the street like Moses parting the Waters in front of him. Several turns and U-turns later a familiar figure was standing in the middle of the street with a glorious ray of sunlight shing down on him like he was liturgical…. Saint Phil (the Buddhist!)
I got off the bike and listened to Phil and my barber, previously known as Captor, exchange lots of unintelligible words. Phil turned to me and indicated that it was time to pay. I handed him all my cash which amounted to about 600,000 Dong. I hoped that would cover it.
More verbal exchanges ensued.
I received no change.
Phil said to me, “He’s going to bring you back to the hotel.”
“Ok”, I gulped.
And off we zoomerized as those crowds did what they were supposed to do when someone of Biblical Proportions is aiming for you….. get outa the way!
Finally deposited safely back at the hotel, my Kidnapper of Record smiled and gestured that he needed to get back to his shop.
I went upstairs where I finally had a chance to look in the mirror.
I now have a problem that I never saw coming and I’m not sure how I’m going to handle this one…..
I need to return here every five weeks for a haircut because I’ve NEVER had as good a haircut as this one in my life!
A cut, beard trim, wash and delivery for about 500,000 Dong! ($18.00) I did get some change from Phil later on 😊
(And cool pics at the End!)
Alrighty then, here it is for real, the info on the Mekong River Delta.
Guess what is over 3000 miles in length, is the boundary between three different countries, runs through five, including several Chinese provinces, has a drainage area of over 300,000 square miles, but only has a little over 100 of those 3000 miles at its terminus in the south of Vietnam?
Since we all know that I’m writing about the Mekong River you’d be very surprised if that were, indeed, not the answer.
Be not surprised.
But it’s the last bit of given information that is the telling of the tale here. From hydroelectric and irrigation dams it’s a wonder that any water makes it to the end its course. Of the fifteen major dams on the Mekong, thirteen of them are in China and two are in Laos. So you can see where Vietnam has little control over what comes downstream towards them and that is changing big time as this is written.
Get this.
Just a short distance before the Mekong reaches the location where it crosses Vietnam’s boundary with Cambodia, a canal has been proposed and digging has begun on a waterway that will change the course of the river, cleaving off over forty percent of its flow and diverting it southward through Cambodia. It is said that one of the goals of the project is to give Phnom Phen access to a port on the Gulf of Thailand, where it will end in the small province of Kep.
Do you think that Vietnam is having a fit over this issue?
Yes.
It is no secret that all of these countries in Southeast Asia have enjoyed (?) various levels of (non) cooperation over the last 1000 years or so. And even today, these questionable past alliances breed a level of suspicion that can only have its roots in a history that sustains that kind of suspicion.
But here’s the best part….. China (surprise) is the entity that is financing the project to the tune of 1.7 billion US Dollars (which we all know means at least double of that!). Can you believe that Cambodia will be beholden to a country that in reality was the genesis of the Khmer Rouge? Does this make any sense to you?
It does if you can understand that Cambodia seems to hate the Vietnamese. Now Cambodia will be able to thumb their noses at the country that helped them defeat Pol Pot and his Khmer Rouge back in the late 70’s. Vietnam’s ‘mistake’ was to stay in Cambodia for about ten years until Cambodia got its act together, government-wise….. but that just pissed off the Cambodians as they thought that Hanoi was making them a puppet-state. (They weren’t)
This also illustrates that China likes when things are stirred up and unsettled….. it makes them the one that is in, and totally has, firm control.
The river that we visited was not as obviously under the influence of anyone except Mi thien nhien (Mother Nature), full of life, both over and under the water.
We went to several of the Touron Traps like the coconut candy (YES!) making place, then an authentic (just a little touristy) Chocolate from Scratch business (YES! YES!) and then a visit with a local farmer who has been here, on island, since 1975.
This visit includes a farm tour and some fresh fruit and of course….. shots of whiskey (YES! YES! YES!)! Then it was off to a riverside place for lunch and there were no disappointments here! Their presentation of traditional fare was spectacular!
After all was experienced (and eaten) we made our way back to the bus in the hopes of beating that mass migration that was heading back to Saigon.
No more surprises for you….. you’ve already seen that the Monumental Mekong Movement was replaced by the TET Time Tinkerer.
And the only good thing to develop around that was the fact that we were thoroughly entertained by that mess for the entire ride back to Saigon, and by extension, so were you!
So….
How ‘bout that Delta? 😊
A few days ago, we headed out of Saigon, destination, the Mekong Delta.
“Hey man! Like that’s weird…. I haven’t heard ‘bout them since like the 80’s, but I don’t remember it so much and my head still hurts…… a lot…. too… uh yea…”
What?
“Yea man, those guys were like really, really rad…. made up names, nothing was real, but man could that lead guy riff!”
What?
“Huh? Don’t you know ‘bout them? They was like really far out in the thrash metal scene, so far that they made up all of their names and everything! It was like they didn’t want to be known for real, just the music….. ohhhh my head….. it
Ok, I give up. What in the name of Buddha are you talking about?
“Mekong Delta man! …. I even got their Christmas Album!”
The things you come across when looking at Wikipedia…
The actual Mekong Delata is quite large, it’s over twice the size of the Mississippi Delta for your comparison purposes. And like most delta regions, it has its own sets of unique features and characteristic’s, most of which can be related to the folks that live there, as isolated as they are.
And now that you’re all excited to learn about the flora and fauna of this incredibly important region, I’m going not switch gears on you and we’re going to concentrate on the ride home from there!
Huh?
Yessirree, if you thought that the ride home on the Garden State Parkway on a Sunday night in July after a glorious weekend at the Jersey Shore was a test of your metal, well then you have never experienced a ride home to Saigon after a great time in the hinterlands of southern Vietnam after the TET holiday!
No need for anything else except some photos!
Phil had thought that we would be able to beat then rush back into Saigon as we had planned on leaving the Delta area early afternoon. The proposed two-hour ride home quickly turned its back on us and introduced us to its evil big brother, the dastardly Four-Hour Crawl.
Luckily, we were in an air-conditioned coach that allowed us to view this local slice of humanity as it enveloped us on the road back to the city.
I will be exhibiting here mostly “Multi-Rides”, for your entertainment!
Don’t worry….an actual Mekong River Delta post is in the offing; I promise you’ll get one!
Late February back in ’26 
The Anticipation Level for this outing was kinda flatlined because we had done similar events twice before. Once up in Hanoi with the Twenty-Somethings and then this past week in Nha Trang with the MatureMen, both of them conducted within the plethoraizing countless swarms of ubiquitous Motorbikes. (Hopefully that paints a picture that might come close to the actual number of motorbikes😊!) But…. it included dinner…. and being in this crazy traffic with these little zipsters is always a hoot, so…. why not?
Oh boy were we ever incorrect and surprised!
This Post is all photos, so look/read on and hopefully I’ve captured our ‘Rapture of the Night’ sufficiently enough to give you a taste (remember dinner was included!) of what we experienced! Now go and put your helmets on, grab your favorite Twenty-Something (again!) and let’s go!
Just check out the few remaining photos which need no description! Except the two directly below, note the buildings to the left of the suspension tower in each photo!
Get ready for all your current newsworthy travel topics, covered in about as shallow a depth as possible, right here on:
Your Daily I.V. (Images of Vietnam)
This series is from the infamous “Weasels” day. As usual, we covered a lot of ground. From an ethnic K’Ho village visit, to the burgeoning business of flower growing, we were treated to several slices of daily life in rural Vietnam. In this village of Buon Chuoi, we were able to sit with the Deacon of the local Catholic Church. O.A.T. has been involved with this village for the past twenty or so years (they built the school here) and because of that, is allowed by the government to make regular visits to there in order to bring us just that much closer to these people. Otherwise traveling into the back roads is forbidden, or shall we say, “discouraged”. I’m not sure who would have enforced any intrusions, but we all know that infractions have a way of being reported in a communist society. However, it is obvious that a change is at hand as freedom of religion is alive and well all over Vietnam and organizations like the Church and O.A.T., that have demonstrated that they have the best interests of the populace in mind, are allowed to flourish, just don’t rock that boat…. yet.
Our destination was the home of the “mayor” of sorts, a position with no pay, but tons of respect. His wife is quite prolific when it comes to weaving as you will soon see.
Several pics here from the main road through the village. Does everything look orange to you? That’s not me playing with the color saturations, etc. that’s the color of the local soils and as you can see, it is pervasive!
This is how our day started. We visited one of the gazillions of green houses that blanket entire square acres/miles/ regions of this area. Not too long ago, the ‘discovery’ of the advantages of these giant science experiments was had. Some very smart Dutchmen came up here and said: “Hé! Deze plek is geweldig om bloemen te kweken en al onze grond staat onder water, dus waarom helpen we je niet op weg? (We laten je niet alles zien, zodat we de controle behouden.) En je kunt er toch flink wat geld mee verdienen!”
Translated: “Hey! This place is great for growing flowers, and all our land is under water so why don’t we help you get started, (but not show you everything so that we’ll still be in control) but/and you can still make tons of money!”
And so it happened. The acreage that is under wraps is so extensive that the government has had to curtail the number of greenhouses in this area because of the reflection/absorption/of both solar and water. It has actually altered the local climate to the point where it is measurable.
And finally…. to help brighten your day, some assorted colors from Vietnam!
Coffee plantation worker watches as weasel eats the ripest beans.
Reports this to manager.
Manager swears ($#!@*!!), runs to get his 9mm.
Manager misses the weasel.
Worker finds some weasel s**t and picks it up.
Calls Manger over, points out the coffee beans imbedded in the weasel s**t.
Manager swears again ($#!@*!!), runs to get hand sanitizer.
Worker shrugs his shoulders, picks up lots more weasel s**t, and starts drying them out.
Weeks later, the worker decides to clean the beans in some red wine and then processes them like he normally does.
Manager sees this going on and swears ($#!@*!!) at the worker, runs to report him to HR.
Worker secretly makes a batch of weasel s**t coffee, closes his eyes, preparing for the worst, and sips.
And sips again.
And again.
Worker gives the manager the side-eye and grins to himself.
Worker quits the plantation, opens his own place using the weasel s**t coffee, it sells for over a hundred dollars a pound.
Worker becomes a millionaire, buys the plantation, fires manager.
Manager swears (S**t!!!)
Yup! says the Worker
If you think that I am making this stuff up, you would be mistaken. In fact, with a few small changes for accuracy’s sake (like it was a rifle, not a 9mm) that is exactly how it all happened!
Sort of.
But the process is simple, basic science, that makes everyone want to gag.
But the end result is apparently quite good!
And no worries….. when the boiling water hits it it’s all pure!
Only kidding! It’s sanitary way before that stage!
Here’s the whole story. Back in the day these “weasels” (who are not really weasels but are civets. Unfortunately, Civet S**t Coffee doesn’t sound nearly as cool as Weasel S**t Coffee does. (These weasels have a good marketing team working for them!) were observed eating only the ripest, sweetest coffee beans. Their little tummies dissolved the outer casings and left the best part, the ‘meat’ of the beans, intact, but….. chemically altered by the enzymes in said tummies. The beans then take the Low Road and get “processed” by the rest of the weasel’s guts until we get to the part where the “Worker” walks around and picks up the weasel s**t and further processes it. It needs to be dried for a few weeks; then it is washed in red wine. A 1945 Domaine de la Romanée-Conti (DRC) Grand Cru is usually preferred but if that is not available then a Gallo Brothers Red Wine (bag-in-box) will do nicely.
Bet you can’t wait to try this s**t out!
The verdict is still out on whether this process yields something spectacular or whether the spectacular yields the process…. namely a marketing gimmick.
But…… there is some verified science behind the little guy’s preference for only the choicest, ripest, sweetest (?) coffee cherries and their ultimate treatment down inside. The underlying progression and systematic treatment of the coffee cherry by a certified chemical process that showed that the Robusta beans ingested and then pooped (there now 😊 no more need for asterisks!) contained significantly elevated levels of total fat….. of not one, but two different fatty acids that are commonly used as flavoring agents and are associated with creamy, dairy-like notes.
The source of this discord amongst the Juan Valdez’s of the Coffee World probably explains some of this dispute. The Specialty Coffee Association of Americas (SCAA) has generally pooh-poohed (sorry, I couldn’t resist that one!) the taste and acceptability of it. I suspect it’s because they don’t got no weasel poops themselves and have GPE (General Poop Envy) and probably need a laxative.
C’mon you guys!
Let the rest of us have some fun!
No one can afford this s**t full-time anyway, so what’s the big stink? (Oops!… there it is again!)
So, we will just have to rely on our own El Exigente (pronounced Alexa Hente), standing in for Juan Valdez (pronounced Waaaan Valdez) ….. Ms. McCarthy de Paola (pronounced ‘Goldilocks’ because she’s so particular) who was afforded the opportunity to have a cup o’ s**t on the house, or weasel, if you prefer.
The verdict was firmly placed in the Aye! column with all of the supporting evidence (twenty-seven 8×10 colored glossy photographs with circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back explaining each one…..) for your perusal.
So… run, don’t walk to you local grocer and demand that they carry some Weasel S**t Coffee and let’s all watch the local Board of Health have babies!
(It will soon become evident)
Our route was a ride out into the countryside; our destination was a home-hosted luncheon given by a lady whose mom had been in a relationship with an American Serviceman. No worries, this one has as a happy ending as possible, but this story and multitudes of others like it (most not as satisfying) needs to be told and acknowledged.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
“Be careful what you wish for Donny”
That phrase is being whispered in my mind with a frequency that I had not believed possible, but far from having the usual negative inference, it always brings this experience to another level.
It is being uttered by the Manta Maven back at O.A.T. whose sole purpose in life is to provide experiences that you didn’t know existed, had no initial particular interest in, but now wonder how you’ve lived without them enhancing a daily life……. mine.
I am (with permission!) going use some of Sherry’s blog here. When it comes to describing in detail what went on, Sherry does a masterful job! She’s been doing this for far longer than I have. Plagiarism is a no-no, so after I read Sherry’s post I realized that I had been infected and the cure was not to fight it, but to accept it and just copy it! Why re-write something that works just fine…… hence this discloser!
Sherry’s words will appear below in italics…..
Sherry:
We flew from Da Nang to Nha Trang, a beautiful city on the coast. From the day we landed in Hanoi, we have enjoyed the preparations for TET, the lunar New Year, marking the arrival of the Year of the Horse. From the flowering peach blossoms in the north to the huge displays of chrysanthemums in the south, the New Year is a time for flowers, family and fun. Everything is cleaned: homes, streets, cemeteries, even shoes and motor scooters. Special food is prepared and people travel back to their villages. New clothes are bought for everyone. It is New Year’s Eve in Nha Trang, and our hotel faces the beach which provides us front row seats to the celebrations. There are thousands of motor scooters parked along the roadway as people walk thru the sand, waiting for the fireworks. Many shops and restaurants are closed to allow for family time.
TET is celebrated for three full days plus additional celebrations for the whole month after. Day one is for family: parents enjoy early morning with their children then go to the home of their parents and siblings. Food and gifts and exchanged and then all go to the Buddhist temple to give thanks for the past year and pray for peace, prosperity, health and happiness for the months to come. While the country has freedom of religion and there are Catholic and even Sunni Muslim areas, Buddhism seems to be the primary faith that is practiced. We visited two temple areas today which were crowded with families, dressed in fine clothing, honoring Buddha. The second day is reserved for visiting aunts and uncles followed by another visit to the temple. The third day honors teachers and mentors who have enhanced your life again followed by a temple visit. TET is a joyous time in Vietnam, and we have been very lucky to share in their New Year.
Today we enjoyed another scooter tour of the area, stopping at temples, winding thru little streets, eventually heading out into the countryside. As in Hoi An, the extensive flooding and devastation from the November typhoon was still evident. The water level reached the rooftops and thousands died. When the floodwaters receded, the people worked together to clear out the mud and repair the damage. OAT helped by sending in large equipment to clear mud and debris.
Don:
Bụi đời
Now there’s a phrase that we don’t ever hear but when you know the translation, it may send a shiver through your being.
“The dust of life”
Bụi đời
It is the local name given to the countless children fathered and then left behind after our involvement in Vietnam.
Why?
Because they were shunned and as ostracized as any ‘half-breed’ ever was. This type of situation is not new to humanity, rather it is quite common in history to dilute a conquered people with the seeds of the conquerors. The difference here is that at the time, we were not in that situation….. all we had were a bunch of really young lonely G.I.’s who didn’t know if they were going to be alive the next day.
That will set the stage for Sherry’s next couple of paragraphs….
Some more from Sherry….
We have talked about the 150,000 AmerAsian children left behind when the war ended. From 1975 until 1989, these were the ghost children that no one wanted to acknowledge. They were the living evidence of relationships with the American soldiers. Some were abandoned, some were sent to grandparents in remote villages, all were discriminated against. Paperwork that proved paternity or even marriage had to be destroyed as that proof would be used by the government (North Vietnam) to punish the mother. That all changed in 1989, when the U.S. Congress passed a law allowing them to come to the U.S. Suddenly, they were valuable tickets to a new life in America. Rich people would “buy” them and secure fake paperwork to prove they belonged to the family. A mother and child (now grown) could relocate, become citizens and eventually sponsor other family members to join them.
This still left mothers with terrible choices: take the AmerAsian child to America for a better life but leave behind the fully Vietnamese children she also had? She was not permitted to bring her entire family. Our home hostess today has two half-sisters who went to America with her mother while the three older siblings stayed in the village.
Some last words from me….
As you have seen, we have had any number of interactions with local peoples, from the Hill Country Tribes up in the North, to little old Grandmas down here in the South. Each one has been fascinating in its own right. This particular encounter really struck a chord when we sat there and could still feel the anguish of relatives re-telling their families stories.
To what end you may ask…. maybe its just the opportunity to give someone a chance to tell their story, to someone who will listen, ask intelligent questions, commiserate a bit, and then give a hug to as we depart their home.
I dare say that there have been times when any of us wished that someone paid that much attention to our own stories, warranted or not.
Bụi đời
I think that I’ll whisper back to the Mantra Maven for a lot more “wishes” like this.
We are in Nha Trang for only two days before moving further southward. This is another seaside city, a bit smaller than Da Nang. It is curious to hear and then see the names of the cities that we heard on the TV every night during the time that we spent over here in the 60’s and 70’s.
I have assembled some random pics for you here, in no particular order because I’ve had both camera and Lightroom crinkles as of late. So far, I got them solved, and there was some collateral damage, but mostly just to my nerves!
I think that we are fortunate to be here during the TET holiday…. the decorations and flowers are just crazy!
For your perusal……
Lot’s more to come, but I actually have to decide what to include because if I didn’t, then you would all just click off from sheer boredom and the combined weight of photos and verbiage!
So….. I will leave you right here. 🙂