Tag Archives: experience

SE Asia in a Nutshell: Part 1

Studying in Australia gives a few unique opportunities. For me, it included the chance to do field school through Vietnam, where we were privileged to work with some amazing people learning how the museum ‘does-what-it-does’.

However, outside of class I wasn’t expecting to see or do much, as my mental preparation had my mind thinking “business trip” rather than “vacation”. Those who know how I travel know that every moment I’m not trying to be a good student is spent exploring. (After all, I use academia as my excuse to go far away for long periods of time.) As South East Asia is in the news frequently for tourists getting in accidents, trafficking, or other not-so-pleasurable happenings, I didn’t think I would go there on my own, no matter how much solo experience I have. Two of my classmates who were also going to Vietnam agreed and the three of us decided to book a tour and continue through Cambodia and Thailand after our studies.

 

Vietnam – Hanoi

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We started our two-week field school in Hanoi. The old quarter burst with life, vendors, pedestrians, and mopeds. Oh-so-many mopeds. The air was thick from humidity and exhaust in the narrow streets. The buildings, with their un-kept paint and traditional wood trimmings, towered multiple stories on either side. The ground floor housed open-front shops and restaurants with smiling and eager staff trying to wave you in for business.

Walking along the streets, also be careful of taking pictures. We dubbed the women with the carrying baskets the “banana ladies” and developed the motto “beware of the banana ladies”. Within an hour of arriving in Hanoi I experienced my first of the photo cons. We were making our way to our hotel when a banana lady saw me taking photos and before I could get away, put her carrying stick on my shoulder and traditional hat on my head and kept pressing for me to take a picture. Me in my travellers hope that she just wanted to share her culture (after all that’s been my experience in most other third worlds) I passed my camera to my mate and had her snap the photo. As soon as the shutter snapped Banana Lady took back her gear and I thanked her and started to walk on now that she was, what I thought was obviously, done with me. That’s when she started yelling at me that I owed her 2 dollars. Ah hah! The next two weeks we had to deal with ladies following us down the street trying to put their carrying sticks on us as we would wiggle out from under them and continue on. Beware of the banana ladies.

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Each street in Hanoi is delegated to different wares – tin, copper, glass, etc – and if there is something in particular you need, you can find shops competing on the same street.

Food alley, while more expensive than the other shops that reside on another street, offers a multitude of options. In the heart of the city, the favourite of the field school was the Lantern Lounge, which could be identified easily at night by the plethora of lanterns that ornamented the face of the building. Once inside, you take of your shoes and sit traditional style at a table that is lit by many more paper lanterns draped across the ceiling. With free wifi and delicious vegetarian options in an English menu, we decided it was worth multiple visits. (When I travel I try to eat more vegetarian friendly because meat is usually harder to come by, and not always guaranteed fresh. So my rule of thumb is if you can’t read the local menu, don’t order anything unless you know what it is. I like to eat seafood in coastal towns, but since seafood can be temperamental I stay away from it if I have travelled more than two hours away from the shore.)

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Another Hanoi specialty I highly recommend is the Egg coffee. It is the superhero of cappuccinos. A thickly whipped, sweet egg white topping layered on a cup coffee. That is a dissert in itself.

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The Adventure to see Uncle Ho

 

While in Hanoi, morbid curiosity came over a few of my fellow classmates and I to visit the man we had learned so much about through our museum visits. After all, most of the museums in Vietnam display Ho Chi Minh as a larger than life demigod rather than the ruler of a country. His mausoleum is in Hanoi, and free to the public. Just remember the standard temple rule, dress modest, don’t lug giant bags in, and add that they don’t like you to take photos. That’s fine with me, I’m not too keen on photographing corpses, but the balmy heatwave in north Vietnam meant that one of my classmates and myself had worn shorts, which would have prevented us from getting past the many guards that were on the lookout for tourists that may be there to disrespect their highly regarded leader.

Once at the back of the 3 block line, we left our fellow classmates to find something to throw on over our shorts. The first shop we came across sold us a scarf to wear as a sarong and a pair of flow-y pants. We re-joined our classmates and continued through the line and past the video screens playing videos and testimony to “Uncle Ho”. When entering the mausoleum, you walk up stairs through small winding passages, designed to keep the climate-controlled room cool. Once in the room the whole experience felt surreal. The man in the open crypt in the middle of the room was stark white – no doubt due to multiple trips to be embalmed – and what interested me more than the marble looking man was the visitors that shuffled their way through with us. One older lady in front of us had streams of tears as she looked at him, and was offered tissues by who I assume was her grown daughter. Another man looked on in awe. I thought it was strange. It was strange to see how someone who has been long dead was displayed for the sake of his memory, and even stranger seeing the reactions to it. It was strange all around, but then, I’m not visiting embalmed leaders of countries every day.

 

Ha Long Bay

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Though we stayed at a hotel for the duration of our field school, the trip I took to Ha Long Bay I booked a side trip through the FlipSIde Hostel. They were very friendly and if I were to do it again, I would stay there rather than our hotel. Options for Ha Long bay tours vary, but there is one for those who are just “passing through” and want a day trip to Ha Long Bay.

We left the hostel at 8 am, taking a small private bus about 4 hours to the bay, with a quick stop at a craft shop where all the craftwork is made by disabled locals. Once at the bay, we boarded a small motorised wooden cruise launch. A lunch spread of fresh seafood from the bay, with other additions, was provided for us to enjoy while leaving the harbour. In the bay, the sea cliffs rise straight out of the water, creating a maze of scenery.

 

Fun fact: James Bond “Tomorrow Never Dies” was filmed here.

 

Fun fact: Ha Long means ‘descending dragon in Vietnamese

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Our boat pulled into a little fishing village where we kayaked in a small bay area that connects to a couple saltwater pools via caves. After half an hour of paddling around, we made our way back to the dock in time to board the big boat again and go around the bay to a cave system that has been altered to hike through. The cave system is dressed with bright coloured lights that were put in to help show the contrast of the many layers of stalagmites and stalactites. One addition included a fountain in an existing pool. It was fun, beautiful, interesting, and no extraneous training was required to visit. But the complaint I heard most was it “looked like Ariels grotto at Disney world”, a bit cartoonish, and not authentic. In my opinion, it was an amazing day trip for less than $50. I would recommend it.

 

Da Nang

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After Hanoi, we travelled to Da Nang. Da Nang has a slower pace than either Hanoi or Ho Chi Minh City /Saigon. With a beautiful river walk that exhibits local sculptures in a permanent art display, and the “dragon” bridge that shoots fire out of its mouth on the weekends, Da Nang is an amazing modern city to visit.

 

Hue

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A day trip from Da Nang can land you in Hue (pronounced “way”), a wonderfully small tourist town. If you ever thought about getting something tailor made, this is the place to do it. The town is seaside, so the local specialty is oysters, and the seafood in the area is fresh from the boat.

After Da Nang, the field school was over. It was time to part ways with most of our classmates. My two companions and I went south to Saigon where we started our tour through the south of South East Asia with GAdventures.

 

Gumtree Adventure

Before I get into this article, I am going to reiterate what we’ve all heard a million times… Don’t trust what you find on craigslist/gumtree/online advertising.  There are, on occasion, ads when job or roommate appear too good to be true, and like my experience, were.

I was in my room in Sydney when I found the farm job. Sheep, horses, a bit of yard work, and mostly taking care of a couple of kids. Perfect. Just what I needed.

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I emailed the owner of the add, not expecting a reply for a couple days, as it was 1 am Sydney time. By 3 am my tablet is chirping of a new email, and my phone buzzed at 7 with a text message. This lady, who I will refer to as J, was in desperate need of help. With a bit of conversing through text message, we arranged for a phone interview with the father, Ill call him M, and I was to video chat that night with J.

Here’s the short sweet nitty gritty of that week; J was really nice at first, before I got on the bus to go to their farm. Once on the bus, the text messages became short abrupt and had an air of aggressive authority.  This started the little alarm bells in my head. I figured it was just travelers fatigue and I would asses everything at face value, when I was there face-to-face.

My bus came in late, so my first few moments with the family were just before bed, and I would start the next morning. But N, the other nanny and my saving grace through that week, had shown me to my room, and started giving me tips to how to be comfortable there.

The next morning I found out that the race horses they breed are not at that farm, but at a different farm 2 hours away. Ok. I can live with that.  But when I had asked about internet I received the reply that yes, she did say there was internet in the interview, but she doesn’t let the nannies use it. (As we were so far away from a city, my phone was on roaming and I burned through my prepaid plan sending the occasional email.) I figure its good to get away from my dependence on technology and as I was to work from sun up- to sun down, I would be a bit busy for it anyways. So I go in search of breakfast.

Simply asking where the toaster was led to a three man hunt through the kitchen. M, N and I search through the cupboards and shelves for the toaster. J, who had been in a mood all morning, rushes past stating, authoritatively, ‘Three people to look for a toaster. That is unacceptable!’ I brushed it off as a joke as M and N smirk at each other.

By the afternoon I realized she wasn’t joking, that in fact, she ran a ‘tight ship’ but would keep forgetting to give me schedule.  By the end of the day, I was exhausted from looking after the boys who, according to J, were only acting up because I was new to the house. By that evening, the boys had ganged up on the other nanny, and the older boy became violent, calling slurs and punching however he could in a not-playful way. Upon J’s assessment of the situation, she says in a calmly, nearly everyday tone, ‘alright boys, you’ve had enough down here, lets go upstairs for a bath.’ The alarm belles turned to sirens.

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Over the week it progressed to fending off accusations from J, and meeting the previous nannies that had taken refuge at the neighbors house.  The next night, N and I had made a pact that if one of us leave, the other would follow shortly after, since the other became the sounding board for events we otherwise wouldn’t have stood for.  Most of the time, J separated herself from the rest of the family by way of locking herself in her office.

On the day I would finish my first week, N and I were told by M that it would be our day off and that we could sleep in, since the afternoon would consist of going into Melbourne for the races, which one of their horses were running.

When I had gone upstairs, J had cornered me in the kitchen and had asked why I was late helping get the boys ready. I told her, with it being the weekend and having the day off I assumed we could sleep in. Fire blazed in her eyes as she roared ‘ we do NOT assume here. I never said you could have the day off.” I was stunned, staring disbelieving at her, that the 6 day week that we were promised was also a lie. M, being just in the next room swooped in, and came to my defense, “I’m the one who said it”.  At that she turned on M, and in front of the two boys started yelling how M always sided with the nannies, and never supports or defends her.  His face looked like she had slapped him. “I do. I am simply telling you what I told them.” With a brief scold to each of us, she asks ‘you wouldn’t be leaving for the races until 10, did you expect me to HAVE to spend that time with the boys? It doesn’t make sense.” My only thought was, what mother wouldn’t want to spend a couple hours with her own children.

I clean when I get flustered. I find things to keep my mind occupied, and after having just finished washing the dishes, I figured that I would go ahead and dry them as something to continue this. From behind me, J grabs the towel from my hands, replacing it with an exercise sheet for the boys, who had been sent out to their trampoline.  She leaned in, her nose inches from mine, and spat “We. Do. NOT. Dry. Dishes.”

I stepped back throwing up my hands in surrender, ‘Okay, okay.’

Then she switched to a matter-of-fact tone ‘We have had nannies here that have fit like a glove.  If you cannot respect our rules then we can get someone else. We had plenty of applicants, if you don’t fit here then we can get one of them.’

Then I heard N, with her soft patient voice suggest ‘maybe she didn’t know.’ And the fire was back in J’s eyes.

“You,” she sneered, pointing at N’s nose, “are on the next bus back to Melbourne.”

“I was just – “

“You and I don’t fit. You don’t fit. You’re gone.” She groaned it as though she were disciplining a child who had lied or stolen.

“[J], why are you talking to me like a child? I’m just trying to have a conversation.”

“You. Are. Gone. You’re only here to plant the trees. Whic-”

“That wasn’t the job I applied for.” N, still calm, replied.

“Because you cant handle the boys. One little thing happens and you lock yourself in your room.“ referring to when the boys attacked her.

Now, here’s a bit of back story…  N, who is British, beautiful and poised, has many more qualifications than I for Nanning. More experience, more knowledge, and a better handle on the boys. In the week of having the boys kicking me, and not listen, (with the simple reply from J ‘they just aren’t used to you yet’), N was my rock, my support who was able to tell the boys to listen to me.

J had shoved N’s sholder amongst her yelling and at that moment I knew that I wasn’t going to stay.

Pack your bags. YOU. ARE. GONE!”

I was a spectator with M, standing, stunned, in the living room as the scene unfolded before us. As if disconnected from reality. Watching a theater performance that was beyond reality. I was on autopilot, swiveled my head to face M, and with the realization of the situation choking my voice into a whisper, the words came out, “I cant stay either.”

“No,” he shook his head in defeat, “You cant.” He looked up at J for a moment, her arms flailing now as she yelled at a still collected N. “…I understand.”

N and I made our way to Melbourne, and spent a few days together traveling through the city.

N, (You know who you are,) I want to thank you for everything. For listening, for the cups of tea when I about pulled my hair out, and the amazing time in Melbourne when we were getting our footing again.

My advice; be warned about people desperate for workers, there may be a reason they cant hold onto them. Ask questions, and be wary when your driving their children around, but never ask to see your license or passport.

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