Remembering The Deceased

On the first day of Tet Vietnamese people visit the graves of their deceased family members. Huyen's parents invited me to go along with them. We got on our motorbikes and rode out to the rice paddies where the graves are located.

The first stop was at a cemetery with about thirty graves. Huyen's parents burned incense and said a prayer for Huyen's great grandmother.














The second stop was in the middle of a rice paddy. This is where Huyen's father's parents are buried. They were the only graves in site.

(PICTURE: Walking through the rice paddy to visit Huyen's grandparents graves.)

The final stop was at an Army cemetery. My first thought upon seeing the cemetary was shock at the number of graves -- I counted about sixty. You have to keep in mind that we were just on the outskirts of a small village. If you want to relate it to America, her village is roughly the same distance from Hanoi that Livingston (my hometown) is from New York. The difference is that Livingston has around 30,000 people. Her village has probably 1,000 max. For such a small place, they've had a large amout of people sacrifice for their country and cause.

We went to this cemetery, because as some of you may recall from when my parents visited, Huyen's Uncle died in the war between America and Vietnam. While visiting the grave, I found out that Huyen's Uncle died in Cambodia during the war but his body has never been found. He has a grave at this cemetery but his body is missing. Huyen told me that there is an organization looking for her uncle's body as well as many other Vietnamese soldiers.

(PICTURE: The Army cemetery.)












One flag that has always meant something to me is the P.O.W. * MIA flag:

Every time I've ever seen one I always feel a strange sensation come over me. I've always thought how hard it must be for families who can't get closure because the body of their loved one is missing. One of my strongest memories as a child is when my family went to The Tomb of the Unknown Soldier in Washingston, D.C. and thinking that there's really nothing more tragic in war than not knowing what happened to someone you love.

I must admit that whenever I've had those thoughts I've had American soldiers in mind. All too often when we think about war we only think about "our side." Being told about Huyen's Uncle just reconfirmed how terrible war is for everyone, no matter the outcome. As my father said a couple of months ago, "There are no winners in war."

Tet

Tet is the new year in Vietnam. Like our new year in the states, it begins at midnight. Being that we were in the country and that they're illegal in Vietnam, there were only a few fireworks when the clock struck twelve. What there was a lot of though was food.

In the Vietnamese culture the families put A TON of food in front of the shrine at their home which honors their deceased loved ones. They cook meals for the deceased and have it sit in front of them for hours. At midnight we then eat the meals and a ton of sweets. I took this picture of Huyen bringing food to the shrine. Eventually, there was literally three times as much as you can see in this picture. Also for perspective, check out that very round basketball looking watermelon. I brought that and it weighed 18.8 pounds.

The next morning we ate the leftover food and a whole bunch of other food we cooked that morning. What's really unique about this picture are three things:
1. Everyone is sitting in chairs. This is the ONLY time of the year the family sits in chairs and at a table. Usually everyone sits Indian-style on the floor upstairs.
2. This is the only time the family eats downstairs. Usually the spot we ate in is covered in ceramics. The night before we moved all the ceramics to another area so there would be room for the table.
3. Huyen told me during Tet is the only time of the year her family can usually all eat together. Her parents work 362 days a year from 5AM till around 9PM. Her father mans the shop in the house and her mother works their stall at a local market.

Let me get back to the food for a second. Being a Jew, I've heard the "Jewish moms make you eat" thing a billion times. Well take it from me, Jewish moms don't have a thing on Vietnamese Dads. Huyen's Dad stuffed me like a pig.

I really can't emphasize how much Mr. Nguyen made me eat. Just to give you an example, he forced me to eat three HUGE bowls of beef noodle soup for breakfast. Usually I eat one bowl of pho for breakfast and I'm full. These bowls at her house were twice as big...and I had THREE OF THEM!

The irony is that her Dad told me on the first day that, "You shouldn't think of yourself as a guest but as a friend. This means you should help yourself because we won't serve you." I told him that was great because I don't like being catered to. Well, it was a good idea in theory. Every time we sat down he proceeded to drop food into my bowl (along with Huyen and her sister). There were two problems with this:

1. I'm a fast eater. Always have been. I ate what I got pretty fast and then they'd drop more into my bowl. If I told them I was full they would say, "You ate very little. You must have more."

2. The day before going to Huyen's I was pretty sick. I had a high temperature and felt really weak. The two times I've felt like this in Vietnam I had a stomach bug. I'm 90% sure I had a stomach bug when I went to the Nguyen's house which meant my appetite was about 50% of what it usually is. I literally felt nauseous the whole weekend I was there...oh, and I had the runs.

That said, the food was amazing and the Nguyen's were fantastic hosts.

Sleeping With A 17-year-old

As mentioned a week or so ago, I had to share a bed with Huyen's 17-year-old brother Su at the Nguyen house. Su's a really great kid who's getting ready to go to university next year. The experience of sharing a bed with him was uneventful....except when:

...at 3:04 AM Su screamed out "ZOY ZOY ZOY!!!!" inches from my ear. I don't know what he was dreaming about but that translates to "YES YES YES".

...at roughly 3:45 AM when Su kneed me straight in the square of my back.

...at 12:15 AM, 2:23 AM, 4:10 AM and possibly twenty other times during the night he stole the blanket from me. This wouldn't be too bad if it wasn't FREAKING FREEZING.

Huyen took this picture of Su and I shortly after I passed out on the first night. Notice the layers I'm wearing because of the cold. And no, I'm not talking about the layers of chins.

The next morning I gave Su a lot of crap for allowing me to sleep about an hour and a half. Huyen laughed and said that Su is always the worst of her siblings to share the bed with. Thanks for the warning, Huyen!

The next night as I was going upstairs to bed, I noticed Su was in his parents' bed. He had felt so bad that he was going to give me the bed by myself and sleep with his parents. I told Huyen to tell him that I was only joking with him and that he should come share the bed with me again.
I regreted this decision when he kicked me in the back of the knee at 3:58 AM.

Shoes Off

Most Americans know this about Asian culture: you take your shoes off when you go in someone's house. I'm not 100% sure it applies to all of Asia but for the most part it applies in Vietnam (except at my house). One thing that I didn't know about the shoes-off culture is that there are "outdoor" and "indoor" shoes. I've been tutoring my neighbor for a few months and whenever I go over his house, I'm handed a pair of slippers to put on. The slippers are meant to be worn from the front door, up the stairs and then taken off before the boy's room. In the room I'm only supposed to wear my socks.

Well, Huyen's family has nearly the same policy. On the ground floor -- where the ceramic shop is -- you can wear your outside shoes. However, if you want to go up the stairs you've got to put on a pair of "upstairs slippers." Then if you want to use the bathroom you've got to take off those slippers and then put on another pair of slippers that are for the bathroom only. The one problem is that the bathroom is on the ground floor. If you can't wrap your mind around this process let me break it down for you:

STEP 1: I was reading a book upstairs and had the urge to tinkle. I got off the bed and put on the "upstairs slippers":
(PICTURE: Upstairs slippers.)

















STEP 2: I walked down the stairs and had to take off my "upstairs slippers" and put on my outdoor sandals:

(PICTURE: Outdoor shoes.)
















STEP 3: I walked three steps to the bathroom, took off my outdoor sandals and put on the bathroom slippers:
(PICTURE: Bathroom slippers.)

















It turns out that there is a reason for this madness. As I was about to leave Huyen's house to come back to Hanoi, Huyen asked if I wanted to use the bathroom. I had just tied my shoes and said, "I'll wait till I'm back in Hanoi. I just double knotted my shoes." The thought of having to change shoes was just too much for me. Huyen told me not to worry about it and to just go into the bathroom. Well, I went into the bathroom and after taking two steps in, I saw why you need special bathroom shoes: two huge mud footprints were where I had just stepped. That bathroom had never seen dirt in its life until Ben August came over.

A Ben in a china shop...

(PICTURE: Huyen's house)

Like many family homes in Vietnam, the first floor of Huyen's house is the family business. The Nguyen's sell ceramics. As a slightly clumsy person, walking around their house makes me a little bit nervous. I can't tell you how many times I've bumped into large ceramic pieces, gasped, and hoped that what I hit wasn't about to topple over and cause a domino effect throughout the whole house. The whole time I'm there I feel like a bull in china shop. It's hard to make a good impression on your girlfriend's parents if you destroy all their goods.

That said, in the two days that I stayed at Huyen's I broke ZERO things...and Huyen broke THREE!

Here's some pictures of their house:

One Year

365 days ago I flew out of JFK airport to Sydney, Australia. 365 days ago. It's the oldest cliche there is, but time flies. I can't possible begin to put into words what all of the memories have meant to me this past year. I've made so many new friends, seen so many new places, and experienced so many things I could only read or dream about back in America.

From thousands of miles away I've felt my parents love day in and day out. I've been homesick countless times and can imagine the moment when I'll hug my brother and sister-in-law and hold their baby for the first time. I've been lucky to have so many friends visit me, including my best friends: my parents and my sister. However, I've stayed strong this whole time in no small part due to the sweetest, happiest person I've ever met -- Huyen. Whenever anyone asks me about her I say the same thing, "Every time I see her I smile." It's a good feeling knowing that people love you all over the world. Not a day goes by that I don't realize how lucky I am.

I'd like to thank my loyal readers. As I often say, this blog was created so my mother wouldn't have to worry about me. However, I now have hundreds, if not thousands of people reading about my life on a daily basis. Over the past 365 days I've written 352 blog entries. My fingers are often tired but I push through so I don't have to get emailed by countless people: "Where was today's blog?"

Recently I found out what day I will be returning to the USA...0r actually Canada. On May 14th I need to land in Montreal, Canada to co-throw my best friend Brad's bachelor party. Having a departure date in my head really hits home on how much I love Vietnam. It's going to be very hard to leave here...but we'll save that blog for when I leave.

For now, lets focus on the present and the past. Here's some memories from the last 365 days:



Just a few ahoyhanoi stats for those statisticians out there. Since September 1, 2008:

- I've had over 3,000 absolute unique visitors to my blog. Out of those people 76% have returned to the site.

- I've had over 20,000 page hits

- The average person spends 2 minutes and 39 seconds on my blog

- I've had readers in 73 countries from every continent except Antartica

- I've had readers from 46 out of 50 US states. Screw you Montana, South Dakota, Mississippi and Arkansas

- When googling, people are putting in my site name to find ahoyhanoi. It's not until the 20th most popular google, "Hanoi Sex Massage" that something obviously ridiculous comes up. That's a big change from it being top five a few months ago.

FLASHBACK: Vientiane

(PICTURE: The most famous Wat in Laos. It's on the currency.)

Vientiane is the capital of Laos. I had heard some negative things about the city including that it was, "skippable" and to spend "no more than a day there." However, like the old saying goes, "Sometimes you need to see something for yourself." Is that how the old saying goes?

Hannah and I had a really good time in Vientiane. We rented bicycles and drove all around the city. Some of the highlights included the Laos version of the Arc de Triomphe. The best part about the Laos arc is the sign on the base that basically tells visitors that the arc is a hideous monstrosity. Here's the sign:

In case you can't read it, it says: "At the northeastern end of LaneXang Ave. arises a huge structure resembling the Arc de Triomphe. It is the Patuxay or Victory Gate of Vientane. Built in 1962 (B.E. 2505), but never complete due to the country's turbulent history. From a closer distance, it appears even less impressive, like a monster of concrete. Nowadays this place is uded as a leisure ground for the people of Vientiane and the seventh floor on top of the building serves as excellent view point over the city."

Vientiane, like much of Laos, was filled with Wats. Wats can start to blend together after a while unless they do something to make themselves stand out. For example, Hannah and I rode our bikes a few kilometers to a Wat that is famous for massages. That's right, massages. I would actually argue that my best massage in all of southeast Asia was at this particular Wat. It would have been a great story if the massages were actually given by monks BUT in fact they were given by laypeople who live on the property. Even better than the massage though was the traditional steam room. Basically a bunch of people sit in a little room with a fire burning below them. The room was filled with smoke and you could barely see your hand if you placed it in front of your face. It was the hottest room I've ever been in but felt really really good.

A small funny anecdote happened at this massage place. Hannah was in the process of getting her massage and I was next in line. The place was really busy and all six massueses were giving massages. While I waited, I noticed this European girl sitting near me. The girl was covered in tatatoos and ear pierces and just observing the scene. The woman who ran the massage center came over to me and said, "You can have your massage in a few minutes." The European girl then said, "Do you need more people to give massages? I'll massage him if you want. I'm certified to give massages." The woman who ran the place turned to me and said, "Do you want a massage from her?" I wanted to say, "Who the hell are you?" but instead I just said, "I appreciate the offer but I want to go with the traditional Laos massage today." It's like this girl ran out of money and was waiting to give someone a massage to earn a couple of bucks. Weird.

At night Hannah and I did what all people supposedly do in Vientiane -- we went bowling. The cool thing about the bowling alley was that it was literally transported from the USA. Everything was from some bowling alley in America. Even the shoes were American sizes. It felt like a little slice of New Jersey.