Chicken Speakeasy

Last night was an interesting one. After working all day, Huyen and I went to her friend Tu's birthday party at a hot pot restaurant. Following the birthday feast, Huyen's friend Hien and her boyfriend Dzung asked us if we wanted to shoot some pool. I agreed with the clause that I'd only like to play for an hour or two since I had some work to do. At this point it was just about 8pm.

Well, we got to the billiards hall and met up with three of Dzung's friends where we proceeded to play pool for the next couple of hours. Just as I was getting ready to depart, the owner of the billiard's hall invited our group to the VIP room. Everyone was so excited to get VIP status -- including myself since I didn't know you could be a VIP at a billiard's hall -- that I decided to stick around for "a half hour more."

We followed the owner up a metal winding staircase to the upstairs VIP lounge. Basically the room was VIP because:
a) It had plush couches.
b) Fancy pool cues.
c) Waiter service.
d) A clean, quietish bathroom.

Two hours later, somewhere in the ballpark of 12:30 AM, we asked for our bill to leave. As we were taking off one of Dzung's friends invited us to get some "very good chicken." I asked him where he wanted to go since it was already past midnight and the city wide curfew was in effect (the front gates of the pool hall were already locked and we had to exit through a side door). He told me there was a chicken place up the road that was open all night.

Well, he wasn't lying. We rode our bikes about a 1/4 of a kilometer up the road and stopped on the side of the street where a man was sitting in a chair. One word was exchanged: "Ga?" The man nodded yes and motioned for us to turn off our bikes. Just then a few teenage boys came hustling out of an alley and collected our bikes and ushered us through a door which was slightly cracked open. Inside the door was an all white room with two tables set up in the middle. From what I could tell it was just a garage that had had its walls painted and tile put on the floor. For all intensive purposes we were in a speakeasy...that served chicken.

A minute or two went by and a woman brought us out a couple plates of chicken. I can honestly say with no exaggeration it was by far the best chicken I've had since leaving the states. I now have my Thankgsiving plans if no turkey pans out.

Huyen's Visa Story Part 1

Huyen is officially invited to two of my friends weddings next June. In order to be able to go to America she's going to need a tourist visa. As I'm sure you can imagine in this post 9/11 world, that's not an easy task. I have read all the literature about getting a visa and combed through all the information online and I know it's going to be an uphill battle to get Huyen her visa. Basically Huyen has to be able to prove that she's not going to land in America and skip out on her flight back to Vietnam. This requires tons of documents, copies of bank account information, property ownership papers, work contracts, etc. etc.

The first step to getting Huyen her visa though was for Huyen to get her passport. Like 99.99999% of Vietnamese people, Huyen has never gone to another country and thus had no passport. Well, check it off the list because she's now got a brand spanking new Vietnamese passport. Huyen even bragged to me that she, "Has more blank pages than me which means she can travel to more places than [I] can."

Get Over It, Pete Cullen

One of the great things about the blog is that it has put me back in touch with a bunch of old friends. Well, this morning I awoke to find an email from an old friend -- Pete Cullen. For those truly avid readers, you'll recall me mentioning Pete in a post back in May (http://ahoyhanoi.blogspot.com/search?q=Pete+Cullen).

Long story short, in 1997 I tied Pete for "senior athlete" in our senior superlatives at Livingston High School. Some people considered my tying Pete to be an obvious case of voter fraud (mostly my close friends and family). Even now many people think my tying Pete was more disturbing than Bush winning the Presidency in 2000 despite losing the popular vote.

Over ten years have passed since we posed together with _______ (I can't remember which girl one it? Jill Gordan maybe?) in the school paper. You would think that a decade plus would be enough time for Pete to get over me tying him but apparently he's gonna need some more time. Check out some excerpts from his email he sent me this morning which is SEETHING with bitterness:

Hi Ben,

I just wanted to say hello, and let you know that I am an avid reader of your blog (TRANSLATION: You should stick to blogging and not playing sports, pansy). Everyday when I get to work the first site I go to is yours, and it is great to see your adventures day in and day out (TRANSLATION: I just want to check every day that you're still not living in America because if you were I'd challenge you to the sport of your choice anywhere, anytime). You are really doing something special out there, and I am sure your family is so proud of you despite you being more than halfway around the world! I enjoyed reading all the recaps of the days they were out there visiting you. I missed seeing your father at all the football games this year, and I hope he is feeling better. Tell him I said hello (TRANSLATION: I bet your dad wishes he spawned a real athlete like me).

I hope everything works out with Huyen, you guys really seem to genuinely enjoy each other every second of the day (TRANSLATION: Huyen doesn't seem like the athletic type so any kid you two might have will be inferior athletically to any kid I'll have). It’s so great to see you having a once in a lifetime experience out there (TRANSLATION: You know what else is once in a lifetime? My LHS basketball scoring record).

Keep up the great work, stay safe, and continue to enjoy yourself (TRANSLATION: If you know what is good for you you'll stay away from NJ until our 20 year reunion) .

From an old Livingston pal, (TRANSLATION: Your nemesis)

Peter Cullen

Great to hear from you, Pete! Oh, Dad, Pete says hi!

Huyen's Grandfather

(PICTURE: Huyen and her Grandfather)

I've met Huyen's Grandfather a few times and every time leave with a growing fondness for him. The man is one of the nicest, most genuine people I have ever met. Every time he sees me he wants to make sure I'm comfortable and has personally taken it upon himself to teach me Vietnamese (using the same resources he uses to teach Huyen's 2 year old nephew).

Huyen recently told me a story about her Grandfather which I think is worth repeating. About two months ago Huyen's Grandmother had surgery at a hospital in Hanoi. Huyen's Grandfather stayed with his wife for the whole seven days she was in the hospital. He literally slept on the cold hospital floor to keep her company. Well, one night while he was sleepig someone picked his pocket and stole his wallet (Yeah, what kind of scum of the earth robs people at the hospital?). Besides his money being stolen, Huyen's Grandfather lost his ID cards and other important information/documents he kept in his wallet. Well, about two weeks after the incident a package arrived in the mail for Huyen's Grandfather. In the package was his wallet with a note from the person who sent it saying they had found it near their house. This wouldn't be so strange except for the fact that their house was 300 kilometers away! Huyen's grandfather was so thankful that these strangers sent him his wallet that he bought them presents and drove 300 kilometers on his motorbike to personally deliver them. Yes, this 70+ year old man drove 300 kilometers there and 300 kilometers back to say thank you. That's the type of man he is.

Guess Who's Coming To Dinner

(Huyen and her 97-year-old great grandmother. She isn't blind, I just caught her while she was blinking)

In another time space continuum leap, today we're going to travel back a month or so to when I visited Huyen's Grandpa, Aunt, Uncle, and Great Grandmother. I would have posted this sooner but I didn't bring my camera that day and it has taken me a long time to figure out how to get Huyen's camera to work on my computer.

The journey to Huyen's Uncle's house took us about an hour or so....minus natural obstacles. After driving for a while Huyen told me to turn down a dirt road. At the end of the dirt road was a large river I was told we had to cross since our destination was on the other side. At the river bank was docked an old boat. There didn't appear to be anyone in charge of the boat or for that matter anyone else in the vincity who needed a boat ride. Huyen pointed at the boat and told me that it was our transportation and we had to wait for some other people to come before the boat would leave. I asked, "How long will that be?" Huyen shrugged her shoulders. After about ten minutes an elderly woman rode up on her bicycle. She proceeded to talk to Huyen and then handed me a little plastic bag. The woman thanked me and rode her bike away. I asked Huyen what just happend and she said the woman's relative has diarhea on the other side of the river and this was her medicine. Yeah, I was crossing the river with some ladies Immodium AD.

Eventually we made it across the river and found Huyen's Uncle's house. Despite not being able to communicate with anyone except her six year old cousin who spoke five words of English, I had a lot of fun. It probably helped that I spent the afternoon taking shots of vodka with all the male members of her family.

Blue Jeans

I've lost a couple pounds in Vietnam and decided it was time I bought some new jeans rather than tightening my belt every time I want to wear pants. So on Saturday, Huyen and I went to four different clothing stores to get me some new threads. After about two minutes, something became quite obvious -- they don't make my size in Vietnam. The largest pair of pants at any store was a 34-30. Two problem with this:

Problem 1: I haven't been a 34 since I was a junior in high school. I've been a solid 35 (which few companies make) or 36 for nearly a decade.

Problem 2: Pants that are 30 length end slightly above my ankles. And well, that's not the look I'm going for.

Despite the numbers, I decided to try on a few pairs of pants anyway. Out of three pairs that I put on I was only able to get one above my thighs. Once on these pants looked like spandex. Huyen asked to see how they fit and nearly hyperventilated from laughing.

Sometimes it takes trying on jeans to be reminded that I'm a Giant who has come down the beanstalk to Vietnam.

"My Dad Would Like To Buy You A Drink""

Last night one of the stranger ever happened to me. No, not one of the stranger things in Hanoi...but in life.

I was at a restaurant drinking and eating with my frisbee friends when I felt the need to go #1. I walked over to the WC and saw that the bathroom door was partially open. Having been in this bathroom twice already during the evening I knew that if the door was open that meant nobody was probably inside since it was a one person bathroom. My thinking was wrong though and it turned out there was a man -- who I'm guessing was around 58 -- taking a piss. The man quickly blurted something out in Vietnamese as I quickly muttered an apology in half English and half Vietnamese. About twenty seconds later the door opened and the man, who was clearly drunk, gave me a big smile and gestured for me to use the bathroom. He opened the door and I stepped inside. The man didn't exit the bathroom and began to wash his hands. Frankly, I had to pee so badly that I didn't even give a second thought to the man standing behind me. Well, that was a mistake.

As I was "making water" (as Huyen would say) I looked down and saw a hand reach through my legs and grab my thigh. I yelled out "What the fuck!" as I instincitvely jumped up and clenched my fists. I turned around to see the man laughing maniacally behind me and quickly darted out of the bathroom. It took me a second or two to grasp what had just happened. I finished peeing, washed my hands and walked back into the restaurant. Immediately I went up to my buddy Long and said, "One of the weirdest things ever just happened to me." Long's interest was peaked and asked me what happened. I started to tell Long my story but I was interupted by a tap on my shoulder. Standing over me was a 20-something Vietnamese English-hooligan-wanna-be who said in broken English, "My Dad would like to buy you a drink." He then pointed to his table and sitting there was the man who had just fondled my leg in the bathroom. Yeah, I don't get it either.