Vietnam; an unexpected journey that I had been expecting for the last 6 months.

Chao!! The blog is finally international again, this time, touching down in the old nam of viet. 

Liz and I have been here officially (with our dreamy multi entry  visas- its like having a multi pass to rainbows end, and its just as terrifying as the fearfall) for 10 hours now. I will give you a brief outline of experiences. 

10am- got a taxi, tried to bargain him down but failed splendidly. I had trouble trying to get money from my travellers belt which was under my dress, while at the same time not giving the taxi driver more than he (literally) bargained for. No chance of seeing this golden lotus, pal. 

10.03- enjoying the taxi mans music, a mixture of k-pop, Indian meditation, and the occasional christmas song for good measure.

10.5am sing to "Mary's boy child" by boney m. 

11am -complain loudly of the heat to anyone who will listen; "How hot is this country???" and "am going to die of heat, feel really quite faint!!!" No one pays attention. 

12.30- go for some lunch at tiny lunch bar. We are the only customers. Old man outside shop points at liz, looks something up on his smart phone and shows his buddy, who also points at LIz. Can only deduce she is a ringer for some Vietnamese movie star.

1.00pm- waiting for lunch

1.10pm- continue waiting

1.15- lunch arrives!! A bit disappointing, but lots of points for having a friendly chef! 

3.00pm- go for manicure- I get cupcakes on my toenails!! Mani pedi full sheebang- nz $15

6pm- brave the streets to go and look at market. Many many many mopeds, buses and cars. No traffic lights. Do at lot of praying.

6.05pm- alive! And on other side of the road. 

7pm- join in an aerobics class in the local park. So fun, tho I'm sure im  getting laughed at by the locals. My Zumba moves too advanced for them, obviously.

7.40- liz feeling ill, so back to hotel for her to sleep and me to blog. 

8.30pm- loud music outside in the street. Don't they know it's bed time? Just like brocas ave.

Tomorrow we are off to cu chi tunnels- google them, they are so insane. As insane as the people in the country in which they are found. 

Xxx

Your mother is a butt + other tales from Vietnam

Testing, testing...
Is it going to be achievable to write hilarious blog updates from this device (my iPod)?? Answer; yes!

So Ihave just booked flights to Vietnam, which will be leaving in just under 11 weeks!! Needless to say, I am shite-ing myself with excitement! But I'm also shite-ing myself about coming down with the Vietnamese version of "dehli belly" and shite-ing myself for real. Yes, as mentioned  in previous posts, I'm a nervous traveller. However, I'm sure that's an issue that can be dealt with closer to the time.


On to more pressing matters. I decided that if I'm going to go for the 'authentic traveller' (i respect your customs, such a lovely hole in the floor boards!!) not the 'obnoxious westerner' approach ( "you call that a toilet?!"), I'd better brush up on my Vietnamese. My hope is to become so fluent that I will blend in. Once I've convinced the local populous that I am indeed not a foreigner, but infact am an albino native, I shall then experience the real Vietnam. Or so I thought.

Minutes after hatching this cunning plan, I had experienced a vigerous introductory training session, courtesy of vietnameslearnig.com. The lesson had consisted of me trying to pronounce "ma" in six different tones. Not only did I spend 10 minutes in my room sounding like a vaild candidate for the Henry Bennett, but I also had the added pressure of knowing that if I used the wrong tone "ma" in a sentence, I could well end up calling someones mother a rice seedling, or a ghost, or a butt. Talk about pressure!!

Let's practice altogether now! Possible scenario #1

Asian person who I have just met goes to introduce me to his mother who is sweeping the doorway of their small thached hut......and scene...

Him: "Let me introduce you to my Mum".
Me: "Okay".
Him "Chao, ma" (Hello Mum)"
Me " Chao, ma!" (Hello, rice seedling!)
Mum: "uhhhhh....Chao?"

Things I live in fear of: A comprehensive guide

Things I live in fear of


-Being on the toilet or in the shower when a natural disaster hits. A moment where I would literally be caught with my pants down.

-Turning right at busy intersections; I will often take long and elaborate left turn routes just to avoid the tension of a 5 car build up.

-Calling people on the telephone to ask questions that they are qualified to answer. Sometimes I write a script on the phone pad in case they ask me a question that throws me off “himynameisainsley,justwonderingifyoucouldgivemeaquoteonfixingmycar...what kind of car is it?? Uhhh, it’s grey...” I still get the shake ‘n’ sweats.

-Answering the front door when I can’t see who’s there. It’s less of a fear and more of a intolerance to peddlers/pesky neighbours/awkward meter measurer people (I once thought those guys were robbers and I was frozen solid for about 3 mins till my Mum explained why they were round the back of our house. Come to think of it, it would be unusual for robbers to be wearing fluorescent orange vests. Or incredibly cunning).

-Cafe’s not serving date scones

-Cafe’s not serving diet coke

-Cafe’s being closed

-Talking to people about how their day was (please let it have been ‘fine’, I don’t know how long I can fake listen).

-Talking to people that find the Big Bang Theory and Two and a Half Men funny (To be fair I haven’t really watched those shows, but I know I wouldn’t like them, just like I know I wouldn’t like skydiving. It’s INTUATIVE.

-Someone taking me on a ‘mystery’ date, putting me in a plane, attaching me to a stranger (grraass), and throwing me out the door; “Surprise, I got us a skydiving package!!!!”

-Basically anything adrenaline related. I’m going on a Kodak Moment family holiday this weekend to none other than Rotorua, action capital of the North Island. Stay tuned for fear/fun filled tales of hysteria.