hoi an, vietnam

for the past 4 days i've been living the relaxed life of one of the many tourists in hoi an, a small city near the beach in central vietnam. it's famous for the 300 tailors who want to make you a suit, pants, shirts, dress or shoes on the cheap. there's also a fairly well preserved old town here with many temples. at night, all the restaurants and shops along the river have those classic vietnamese lanterns hanging from their balconies. it's gorgeous.

today it's raining lightly, which is fine by me because it's given me some time to do absolutely nothing. i'm sitting in an internet cafe which has no walls, charging my ipod so i can have some music on my flight to cambodia the day after tomorrow. i'd upload some photos, but the internet is too slow.

some stories from the past few days:

my hotel assured me they would send a car to the airport to pick me up. the airport is a good hour from the city. i arrived... no car. there was one payphone, but i needed a pre-paid calling card, which i didn't have. the taxi drivers and motorbike drivers aren't allowed to cross the street from the parking lot, where they all wait for tourists who they can overcharge, to the sidewalk outside the arrival gate. but some of them sneak across, changing their shirts. or they send their girlfriends over to ask worried-looking white people if they need i taxi. after 15 minutes of telling everyone i had someone picking me up, i asked one of the girls if i could use her cell phone to call my hotel. "one dollar!"
"deal."
the hotel receptionist assured me the driver was on his way.
10 minutes later, 20 taxi-cab ambassadors waiting for me to make a move, i decide to just take a taxi and swallow the $10 the hotel already charged me for the ride. i see one girl calling me over to a cab. i go towards her. the other girl, who rented me her phone, comes over and hits the one i'm about to strike a deal with atop the head. i jump into the closest taxi, show the driver the address of my hotel and put up ten fingers. "ten dollars." he grins, we speed off, catfight in our dust. i'm sure i'm overpaying, but whatever.

yesterday, needing a break from the hustler-tailors in town, i took a motorbike to the nearby beach. 10 minutes away. $1 for a one way-ride. again, i'm probably being ripped off. i don't care. i'm happy to practice balancing on the back of the motorbike without grasping this stranger's waist. i'm getting pretty good. the driver takes me to his "friends" restaurant on the beach, where i demount, slightly burning my right calf on his engine. his face says "stupid girl." i don't yet know that i'm supposed to get on and off via the left side. lesson learned.

the woman in charge of this restaurant tells me to lay on one of the beds on the beach. "how much?" "50,000 dong", about $3. this is too much. i tell them i just want to lay my blanket on the sand. the driver gets in a fight with the restaurant/beach chair lady. apparently, he didn't fulfill his end of the bargain. i walk away, seeing a spot in the distance that looks inviting. i put down my blanket and smile; i love the ocean. i hear a man yelling "you," "you." it's my motorbike driver. . i tell him i'll be about 3 hours. he gives me his card, shows me where to go when i'm done. they'll call him. he wants another dollar. now i know i overpaid. i still don't care.

i open up my book, "catfish and mandala" - about a vietnamese-american who returns to his homeland. it's the perfect book for the moment. enter, the swarm of ladies selling fruit, beach balls, jewelry, pringles (whoever is in charge of the international marketing of pringles is doing really well) and cigarettes. "you buy!" "me unlucky today. uuuu be first buy. make me lucky. pleeeeeez" 5 sellers for every prospective buyer. every 3 minutes one of them comes to my blanket, puts her basket down by my face, offers me a line and stares at me until i answer. "no thank you" doesn't work. i learn to not look up, pretend they are not there. i don't know what else to do. one elderly woman with no teeth, who i would guess was no younger than 80, pierces my heart. damn, i hope i never have to work in the sun at her age. i decide to buy a coconut. she doesn't speak english. i say "coco nut," while making a round shape with my hands. she flashes a toothless smile and runs off, leaving her basket with me. 2 minutes later she runs back, a cold coca-cola in hand. i debate just buying this instead. i don't want her to have to run again. but i really don't like soda. i say, "no - cocoNUT." and make a bigger circle with my hands, and sign a straw. she gets it, runs off again and back with a coconut. she says 10,000 dong with her hands. i give her one american dollar, a 50% tip. really, it's the least i can do. i get that smile again and she is off to the french guy who is parked beside me.

when i'm done at the beach, i go to where my driver said. they call him. he's there in less than 10 minutes. he must drive faster when i'm not on the back. i tell him i want to stop 1/2 way at one of the restaurants along the river. he doesn't understand. i get on and when we pass the spot that caught my eye on the way, a sancuary without walls and plenty of sofas, i tap his shoulder and point. he gets it. we pull onto the floor of the restaurant, perched 10 feet above the river. the floor is a few wooden boards with gaping holes inbetween. the possibility of it collapsing underneath our motorbike enters my mind. he knows better than me though, we're fine. it's 3:15. i hold up 5 fingers and point to my watch. understood. he takes off. i take a table right on the edge. white bamboo couches and tons of pillows. the bathroom has a real toliet, not one that's in the floor, which makes my heart jump. and toliet paper! and soap! SCORE. i order a beer and one plate of white rose, a specialty of hoi an. steamed dumplings with i don't know what inside. pork, maybe. and fish sauce for dipping. i watch the river go by for about an hour. another beer. sometimes fishermen roll along with their conical peasant hats. the chalkboard on the side of the restaurant says:
sit quietly
do nothing
spring comes
grass grows
by itself

i'm in my element. i wonder if i've ever eaten in a more pleasant environment. i'm sure i have, but i can't think of when. 5pm comes quickly. my bill is $2.50. my driver is there. back to the hotel. i give him 2 american dollars after getting off on the left side. he bows in appreciation. i go into my hotel and one of my friends, carson, is on his way out, back to australia. he doesn't want to leave. i'm happy that i've still got 1/2 of my trip ahead of me. i sit with carson until his motorbike taxi comes. the driver puts the enormous backpack between his legs. carson has his daypack on his back and another bag in each hand. off they go, amongst all the schoolgirls in white uniforms made of silk, laughing as they ride their bicycles down the unpaved street. i go up to my airconditioned, king-size bed, $15/night room and see him off from my private balcony.