Da Lat

After sleeping for about 4 and a half hours in the hotel I arrived at (at 4am) I awoke with the intention of finding a new hotel for the next night. This hotel was dirty and had a very uncomfortable feeling to it. I also had many bug bites on one foot, I think from the bed. So I walked around Da Lat and found the Peace Hotel. Seemed acceptable. The woman at the front counter was incredibly nice and helpful, and I checked into a room with two beds for $10 per night. I had grabbed a few informational brochures and a city map from a tour office on my way to the peace hotel and had read them over a good western breakfast of eggs and toast. When I returned tothe front desk, the woman helped me book a hiking tour for the next day over LangBian mountain, which is the highest peak from Da Lat down to the southern coast of Vietnam. Which isn't saying much, it is very little. Then, I commissioned an Easy Rider for the day. These are men who are freelance english speaking guides that will take you all over the area for a day on their motorbike. So, I spent the remainder of the day riding around the Vietnam countryside on the back of a motorcycle with an older vietnamese man who liked to talk about politics and people as we rode. It was great fun and I learned a good deal about the people, the land, and the politics of Vietnam. We saw terraced farms and many greenhouses. The easy rider guide said that a great emphasis was placed on agriculture by the government after the Vietnam war. The country was very poor and the plan was to rennovate agriculture first and then industry after. The farm plots I saw had water sprayer systems running through them and very neat rows of lush green vegetables. I gather the Vietnamese did a great job updating their agricultural practices, borrowing ideas from...the dutch I think? Can't remember.

I also saw a coffee plantation (I am told Vietnamese Coffee is ranked second in the world) and ate the fruit around the outside of a coffee bean. Delicious! Does not taste like coffee. I visited a greenhouse that specializes in growing flowers, roses, mums, daisies and many others I couldn't identify. I went to a buddhist monastary, a few cultural sites around the city, and to a waterfall that was entirely cased in cement with ride attractions and swamped with tourists. Not so great that one, but the day in whole was absolutely fantastic. I love how the countryside looks, love the feel of the city. With it's many french style villas, numerous cafes and big loaves of french bread (remnants of french colonial era) the city is a delightful mix of eurpoean and vietnamese style. Of course, don't get me wrong, every city I have seen in Asia so far seems vastly overpopulated and the motorbikes kick up a headache of dust and noise pollution. But in the outskirts, in the countryside, it was truly beautiful. And I rode through my day feeling deep peace and contentment. I landed a nasty sunburn on my face and neck though...

Day two in Dalat was as nice as the first, when I climbed LongBian with one vietnamese guide. The guide was the same age as me, and we spent the day chatting about our lives, comparing notes on our experiences and thoughts about the world. We talked about money, and our dreams and goals in life and about different world views and what was the same and what was different. We had a picnic on the top of longbian looking out over Da Lat and a winding river far below. It was hot and hazy. I felt lazy and content. So nice to be amongst tall trees again. This I really do miss in China. A cool river to complement the forest would have really topped it off. Aah... (Sorry, sweating it out in an internet cafe in Saigon right now in blazing heat.)

That evening, last night actually, I grabbed my book (Jack London's short stories) and headed out to find some dinner. I spotted a very trendy looking French restaurant and was debating about whether to go in. It looked posh and expensive but exciting. I was trying to decide if I was hungry enough to spend the money on an expensive meal and decided to look at the menu. While I was doing so, a charming looking french-speaking Swiss man approached the restuarant and also grabbed a menu. Being that there were few western tourists in the city, and we were suddenly standing side by side holding menus and the restaurant was otherwise empty, the man invited me to have a drink. So I joined him on the rooftop terrace of the restuarant where we looked out over the city and chatted for a few hours. The interesting detail? He and I spoke about an equal amount of halting french and english. So I spoke in rusty french words that I was recalling from the depths of my brain. They had to first bubble up through a thick stew of fresh Mandarin words and it took me a while to warm up. I kept responding in Mandarin. But once I did get in the groove, I felt quite proud to be able to hold a conversation! The interesting thing about it is that if I had never studied mandarin, and clawed my way through that language by necessity, I would never had the courage to try to have a conversation in French with a frenchman. And, I assume this man was having a similar experience in English with me. He seemed to not know some very basic english words, but knew enough to bail me out when I got stuck, and vice versa. So we hung out, had dinner and conversed, and it was a great evening.

This morning, I took the 6 hour bus ride back to Saigon. And, Oh, in my hotel this morning? I awoke to sounds of screaming and wailing as an irate french woman argued something about the price of her room. There was smashing of things and screaming and tantruming of an incredible degree. I thought she was crazy. But, the nice lady at the desk when I had checked in had been shortly thereafter replaced by two somewhat incommunicative women who ignored the guests and often turned their backs on you mid-sentence to have a conversation in Vietnamese. Either way, everyone downstairs looked frazzled and breathed relief when the woman left.

I was waiting on a bus to Saigon. I had tried booking the ticket with these two women the day before and they had chastized me seriously, saying, "Why didn't you tell me you wanted a bus before? It is too late. There are no seats. You can not go to Saigon tomorrow." Then they turned their back on me and talked and made phone calls for almost ten minutes. They helped other customers and talked some more. When I moved to leave, they said wait, but did not explain (Their english was excellent) Finally, the woman said, we found you a bus. It is a mini bus. Only three seats. But you waited too long. So it will be very, very expensive. Then more rapid talking amongst themselves and ignorring. Finally she turned back and said very seriously, the bus will cost you ten dollars. (This for a seven hour ride??? I paid seven dollars for the same trip in the other direction) OK, I said, trying to look somber. I will pay the price. She arranged for me to meet in the lobby at ten. Several hours later she said the plan had changed and I would meet in the lobby at 7:30. I simultaneously learned that two other girls were staying at the hotel in a room just like mine for four dollars each.

This morning I went downstairs to find the lobby packed with people going to Saigon. On a matter of principle, I went to the front desk and asked if I was riding a big bus or a private bus. (Did I mention that these women did not recognize me after a dozen conversations and were trying to offer me a room?) They said big bus. I said, yesterday you told me I would pay a very expensive price for a private bus. If I am ridiing a big bus, should I pay the same..." The women cut me off and began talking to each other in Vietnamese. The one turned to me and said, "You should have booked earlier." I said, "It is OK, there is no problem, but if I take this bus...." The woman began to talk over me in Vietnamese. I made eye contact and very kindly and politely said, "Please listen for a moment. I don't mind riding any bus...." She deliberately turned her back to me. She and her colleague began to make many phone calls. She again helped other customers. I did not know if I had been dismissed or ignored, if they were calling to cancel my reservation on the big bus. I had no idea what was happening. They very skillfully gave me no inroad for conversation or clarification. I should have just left it alone. I waited. Finally she said, "There is a small bus coming now to get you. It is not my fault, not my problem. It is the company that changes things, not me. Not my fault." I again said in my most polite voice, "Any bus is fine, I just..." She dismissed me with a wave and I went to sit down. Whatever, I thought. If I go to Saigon today, it is enough. A small three seater van picked me up from the hotel. It drove me maybe 2km to a big bus. They loaded me onto the big bus and drove me back to Saigon. Confusing, no? Comparing notes with some of the folks on the bus, I discovered that everyone paid different room prices and different bus prices, and everyone had been told different stories, different truths about the same things. You know they have a very common saying here:

Same,Same, but Different.
Becky