VIP vs. Super VIP

Hannah and I had a choice upon leaving Luang Prabang. Did we want to travel to Vang Vieng, our next destination, on the "VIP" bus or the "Super VIP" bus. The Super VIP bus cost about five dollars more than the VIP bus so we decided to pinch our wallets and go with the cheaper option. Those loyal readers may recall that just a few days earlier Hannah and I paid an extra $100 to fly to Luang Prabang. Now we were trying to save $5. Mind you, we had to purchase our tickets in town and didn't actually see what the buses looked like until we got to the bus station. Do you think we made the right decision:

Here's the SUPER VIP BUS:














And here's the VIP BUS:














Our bus had no shocks. Our bus stopped in nearly every village so our driver -- I kid you not -- could pick up his groceries. Our bus picked up villagers who clearly had never ridden on a bus and were seconds away from blowing chunks the second they stepped onto the bus. Our bus had squeaky brakes. Also on our bus the driver ate his lunch while going around the deadliest turns I've ever seen, on the edge of a cliff, above the clouds:



Hannah took about a hundred pictures of the amazing scenery on the drive. Between the exercise of hitting her camera button and not having her Laos coffee for more than two hours, she was utterly exhausted.

GUEST BLOG: A Laos-y Massage

As promised months ago, Hannah was given the huge responsibility of the first ever Ahoy Hanoi guest blog. Enjoy!!!
(PICTURE: Hannah August, guest blogger.)

Hannah here, guest blogging about the worst part of my trip with Ben. No, it wasn't how he would tense up with fear that I would tumble to my death any time we would hike a mountain; No, it wasn't that he claimed his favorite foods were all the meat ones because he wouldn't have to share with me; And No, it wasn't even his incessant need to shower, sometimes even as frequently as once a day!

Sit back, Gentle Readers, and I shall tell you.

Our first night in Laos, Ben and I decided that we would treat ourselves to a massage. I wanted to try a traditional Laos massage, he wanted to do something in the herbal steam arena, so when we found a place offering a Traditional Laos Massage/Herbal Steam Massage Combo Package we were sold.
Clearly blinded by the love of a good deal (thanks, mom), it wasn't until we were led to the actual massage room that we realized our 'spa' was at the back of a restaurant. The room was sandwiched between the seating area, the kitchen and the bathrooms, with the doors facing the hallway that connected the seating area with the bathrooms.

Already uneasy seeing this setup, the masseurs handed us towels and told us to put them on. Mine was damp and had the distinct smudge of a dirty handprint. Why we didn't leave then, I have no idea.

Changed into the moist towel, our masseurs entered and began the "Traditional Laos massage" which really just felt like someone poking at you indiscriminately. Even if the massage itself had been amazing, the atmosphere could not have been less relaxing. Besides the murmur of people eating, the clanging in the kitchen, and the distinct sound of peeing, our masseurs giggled and talked to each other the whole time. It was then I decided when they transitioned between the Laos massage and the Herbal Steam massage I would politely tell them we would have to do the second part another time, and then get out of there asap.

Unfortunately, there would be no transition.

The "masseurs" (who, I should note had the same uniforms as the wait staff of the restaurant- begging the question: Were there really angry customers waiting an hour and a half for their food?) went straight into the herbal steam massage which consisted of taking scalding hot towels out of a steamer and pressing them super hard against our skin. Several times both Ben and myself yelled in pain, but they just giggled and said "sorry sorry" but continued to press the burning hot towels on our skin, in a very non-massagey way.

At one point during this process (I guess I hadn't screamed in a while) Ben whispered to me, "Are you sleeping?" To which I whispered back, "No..." but to which I really wanted to scream, "ARE YOU KIDDING ME? HOW COULD ANYONE FALL ASLEEP DURING THIS?!?!"

Finally over, the masseurs left us in our misery to change back into our clothes, but didn't close the glass doors or the curtain behind them. The icing on the bad massage cake: just then, as we stood in nothing but our damp towels and scalded skin, the restaurant's garbage men walked by.

Now faithful Ahoy Hanoi followers may remember that I got food poisioning in Chiang Mai and ask how this could have been worse than a night in the bathroom and a day passed out with a fever and weakness. The answer is that the food poisioning was free, whereas Ben and I had to pay for this torture. It was the hardest $6 I have ever handed over in my life.

And no, we didn't tip.

FLASHBACK: Swindled By A Monk

On our first night in Luang Prabang Hannah and I went for a walk around the city. As we headed up a small hill we both heard some chanting. We took a right into a Wat and followed the noise to a temple where a dozen monks and novices were chanting. The music was so beautiful that we took a seat and listened for about fifteen minutes:


The next night Hannah and I decided to go back and listen to the music again. We took our seats outside the temple and enjoyed the methodical sounds of the monks. Before we knew it the monks were finishing up and walking out of the temple. One guy -- who later told us he was a novice and not a monk -- bee lined towards Hannah. He started to chat her up as if I wasn't there. My brother instincts combined with the knowledge I gained while being single from 2001-2008 told me that this guy was HITTING ON HANNAH. I don't want to be disrespectful but he was HITTING ON HANNAH! There's no ifs/ands/or butts about it, I really felt like if I didn't pipe in he was going to try and kiss her. For a sober monk he had the look of a horny drunk guy at closing time at the bar.

Before I knew it he invited Hannah (and me with reluctance) back to his room. Yeah, the novice invited us back to his room.
(PICTURE: Hannah never thought she'd end up on a guy's bed in a Buddhist monastery.)












The first thing I noticed when we entered his room -- and I will forever hate myself for not taking a picture of -- was a Playboy picture. No, not an actual naked picture of a girl but a Playboy insignia taped to his wall. I already had a bad feeling about this guy and this started to confirm it. We then took a seat on the novices bed and he started to ask us questions and answer some of our questions. The one thing that really stands out in my head is him telling us about "bad novices" who have gotten kicked out of the monastery. I mean, this guy couldn't have been far behind.

He then started to tell us how he doesn't want to be a monk and wants to be a tour guide in Luang Prabang...and then asked us to buy him clothes so he could become a tour guide. He wanted us to sponsor him leaving the monastery. I wish I had a tape recorder to record the awkward silence that filled the room. To break the silence I gave him five dollars and told Hannah that we had to go.

Yeah, we got swindled by a monk. The thing is though, I'm 99% sure that if I wasn't there he would have tried to make a move on Hannah. I know that sounds ridiculous but it was a "had to be there" feeling. Since that day though whenever I see something like this...

...I wonder if monks have a code: If the robe is on the line, the chick inside is mine.

FLASHBACK: Luang Prabang

(PICTURE: The most crowded street in Laos)

The word "Charming" was created just to describe Luang Prabang. The city, a UNESCO World Heritage Site, had me at hello. From the moment Hannah and I stepped onto the old streets I was won over by the simple beauty of everything: the narrow walking streets, the river side restaurants, the crayola-colored night market, the temples on seemingly every corner, the lanes of BBQ fish and chicken, the tuk-tuks, the clean air and the friendly people.

I read somewhere that Laos people are the most relaxed people in the world. There's a saying that goes soemthing like, "In Vietnam the people plant the rice, in Cambodia the people watch the rice grow, and in Laos the people listen to the rice grow." Indeed, the people and the overall atmospher of Luang Prabang was just relaxed.

A few of our highlights included:

1.Taking a boat ride to some caves that housed Buddhist relics. The caves, in total honesty, were lame. However the boat ride was really pretty and allowed us to make friends with a group of Women from Malaysia. It's a good thing Hannah and I are patient people because we had THE SLOWEST boat driver of all time. We were the second boat to leave Luang Prabang that morning and no less than 20 of the exact same boats passed us on the way to the cave.














2.Touring dozens of local Wats.


















3. Drinking Lao coffee. Hannah hadn't drinken coffee in years until she sipped my delicious cup of Joe. After her first hit she couldn't stop... we couldn't go an hour without her demanding another cup of coffee.
















4. Eating street food...which was good, but not as good as Thai or Vietnamese street food.















5. Buying TOTALLY AWESOME FISHERMAN PANTS!!!!!! I bought these pants at the night market and didn't take them off for a week...even though they gave me a heat rash.

Flashback: Laos

(PICTURE: About to board our propeller plane to Laos.)

Lets see, where did I leave off with my trip with Hannah. Oh yeah, we were about to go to Laos.

When Hannah and I left Chaing Mai we had two options:

Option 1: Spend two days on a bus and a boat to get from northern Thailand to Luang Prabang.

Option 2: Spend $100 more and fly to Luang Prabang in an hour.

Yeah, tough call. We went with the flight.

At the airport in Chiang Mai I saw a strange sign:

Hannah and I both thought this was pretty interesting. You could pray in this special area if you were a Buddhist Monk or a novice. I mean, I'm like a novice in a hundred things so I could totally chill out in there.

What a novice really meant wouldn't occur to me until a few days later when Hannah and I met/were swindled by a novice. Stay tuned for that.

So.... Hannah and I boarded our propeller plane to Laos and took off for the hour flight. If you haven't flown on a propeller plane before -- and I had but it had been a while -- it's amazing how much slower you feel like you're going. You almost feel like you're floating through the air and not soaring...and then thoughts like this start to creep into your head: "Uh, how old is this death trap?"

The flight to Luang Prabang was quite beautiful. We passed seemingly endless mountains and appeared to be following the winding Mekong River for a little while. Finally we started to come in for our landing and I saw a small village...which turned out to be Luang Prabang.

When we stepped off the plane I immediately noticed two things:
1. A dozen kids standing and waving at us from behind a chain linked fence.

2. We were the ONLY plane at the "international airport."

Here's a picture of the airport I took the next day. If you click to enlarge the picture or squint really hard you'll notice there were NO PLANES at the airport. Air Laos seemingly has one plane.

After exiting the airport Hannah and I caught a taxi and headed into Luang Prabang, my new favorite city in Asia.

Off to the village...

(PICTURE: It's the year of the OX.)

Today Huyen and I are driving to her village to spend Tet with her family. There is a big celebration in Hanoi for Tet tonight but from what I've been told, it's more traditional to spend Tet in the country with relatives. In my head I've compared it to this: spending Thanksgiving in NYC watching the Macy's Day Parade or spending Thanksgiving at my home in Livingston watching the parade on TV while eating my mom's cooking. The latter will always win...even though Huyen's house might not have a TV.

The best part -- blog wise -- about going to Huyen's house is that I have to share a twin size bed with her seventeen-year-old brother. Today I'm going to practice a few new Vietnamese phrases including:

1. Please don't cuddle with me.

2. Roll over, please.

3. Don't worry about it, I went through puberty once too.

After Huyen's house I'm going to be going on a five day motorbike trip with some friends. Because Huyen's village doesn't have internet -- and I'm assuming wherever I go on my bike -- over the next week I'm going to post some belated entries from my trip with Hannah. Happy Tet everyone!!!

(PICTURE: The only Ox I'm really familiar with.)

Vietnamese Christmas Trees

(PICTURE: A vendor selling the Tet trees in a park.)

Tet Holiday, the Chinese New Year, starts in Vietnam this weekend. As a casual observer, you would have thought the holiday started weeks ago because the traffic and overall level of madness has doubled around the city.

One sign that Tet is approaching is that the streets are lined with small orange tree/bush things. Although the fruit looks like oranges they're actually more in the lime family. Every family basically buys one of these trees and puts it in their house. Yeah, it's basically the Vietnamese equivalent of the Christmas Tree. Or perhaps the Christmas tree is the Christian equivalent of the Vietnamese/Chinese new year tree since I'm pretty sure China was celebrating New Years way before Jesus was born.

Last night as I was tutoring my next door neighbor, I commented that his orange-tree thingermerbob was quite nice. He told me that he and his father drove 10K to a farm to get their tree. He told me many people have the same tree every year and they keep it on a farm for basically 51 weeks out of the year and just pick it up for Tet. It's kind of like a distant relative you only see on Thanksgiving.