Culture Shock :: Vietnam

After traveling in the ultra-culture-shock land of Cambodia, Vietnam has been relatively normal by comparison. Or at least a bit more normal for a western traveler. The Vietnamese culture, food, and architecture seem to have been pretty heavily influenced by the French colonization and even their “Communism” is close to invisible to the tourist. Generally, visiting Vietnam feels like being in a strange post-Communist, European-Asian fusion country with a massive population and millions of motos zooming around the streets.

As normal as it may seem though, there are at least a few cultural shockers that are worth noting…

Ancient Hoi An

Hoi An, Vietnam

The trip from Nha Trang to Hoi An gave us the golden opportunity to sample the oft mentioned sleeper bus. We had chatted with some travelers who said that they took a trip in Laos on a sleeper bus that had fully reclining seats and they slept through the whole ride. Seeing as how the couple we were talking to included a man over 6ft, I can only assume that the buses in Laos are different from Vietnam. Our sleeper bus was a two tiered affair, like a trailer of bunk beds, though the beds were not fully reclining because each upper portion of the seat rests on a cubby hole that the person behind them puts their legs under. A truly ingenious idea with the exception of one problem. The cubbyholes were apparently made for anyone below the height of 5ft 3in. I am 5ft 5in. Gage is 5ft 9in. Five feet three inches minus five feet five inches equals a very rough night’s sleep.

Beached in Nha Trang

Nha Trang, Vietnam

Leaving Dalat wasn’t easy. Not that we wanted to stay in the cold mountains any longer. Actually, we were quite excited about hitting the beach in Nha Trang. No, leaving Dalat just wasn’t easy because of the bus ride down the mountain. A rather high speed bus ride down a very narrow, winding, mountainside street that had both Gage and I in a white-knuckled panic and induced three people to vomit. That kind of not easy. I found myself wondering if the dense green jungle and charming tiered mountain farms were just some sort of landscape-Valium designed to make us more comfortable with the advent of our eventual demise on the highways of Vietnam.

Gingerino :: Poll Results

As you may have guessed by now, with 61% of the vote, the “Chia Pet”s have won the right to control my hair’s immediate future. Congratulations to the winners. Thank you all for participating in the Gingerino Poll and for making us the number one news source for the Gingerino Hair Growing Challenge. And now, a little gift for everyone so that you can see what you’ve done to me…

Dalat, The Vietnamese Alps

Dalat, Vietnam

As the bus pulled into the center of Dalat, Gage turned to me and said, “Let’s stay here for two weeks.” For a guy who had spent 23 years of his life in the Colorado mountains, this little city in the Truong Son Mountain Range instantly felt like home. We stepped onto a bus in warm Ho Chi Minh City and seven hours later we stepped out of that bus into the fifty degree air of Dalat. After three months of heat we were thrilled at the opportunity to throw on our neglected fleeces and thermals.

Budget Wise :: Cambodia

Cambodia was a bit more confusing than our other destinations when it came to traveling on a budget. A year or two ago, I’m not certain of the exact date, the Khmer people suffered a massive inflation due to rising gas prices. Unfortunately for them (and the tourists) the cost of living didn’t fall back down with the gas prices. Now what looks like, feels like, and should be a very budget friendly country is surprisingly not as friendly as it once was. This doesn’t mean that Cambodia is charging European prices, but it was actually more expensive than it’s more developed neighbor Thailand.

Wait a Ho Chi Minh-ute

Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam

I thought Cambodia was going to kill us. The scamming, the food poisoning, the beggars, the moto mafias, the dengue fever, all started to overwhelm the good aspects of the country. So boarding the bus for Ho Chi Minh City, aka Saigon, became one of the few times Gage and I were excited to take a long haul bus ride. Traveling from Phnom Penh to Saigon is an easy and popular journey, but it also served as another one of those examples of how weird and confusing it can be to travel in a country that doesn’t speak your language. For instance, Gage and I were a bit confused when our bus pulled up to the edge of the Mekong River. Confusion turned to panic as our bus rolled down the ramp and onto a ferry boat in order to cross the river. A little later the bus ticket boy made it clear to us that part of the border procedure involved him holding onto our passports. Not something any traveler wants to hear. Thirty minutes later we pulled up to a checkpoint and everyone was told to exit the bus…in the middle of the road. A Vietnamese soldier held our passports and read off names, which was our cue to get back on the bus. Of course, no one tells us what is happening, we just have to follow the pack. When we actually got to the passport processing center we had to stand with all of our bags in a large crowd of people, while straining our ears to hear a Vietnamese kid attempt to shout out English names. Nothing makes you feel more vulnerable than standing at the border between an overtly corrupt country and a strict socialist country and wondering who the heck has your passport. Not all travelers are religious, but we all have to have faith.

Kampot Evac

Kampot, Cambodia

Since the coast of Cambodia appeared to be more our style than the rest of the country, we decided to just keep sliding down the coast until our visa ran out. The next stop down the line was Kampot, a lovely little town on the banks of the Teuk Chhou River. Our minibus dropped us on the outskirts of town and I called our guesthouse owner Thary, a sweet Cambodian woman who spent the last several years with her husband in Belgium and Switzerland, before returning with him and their adorable son to run a guesthouse in her hometown. We tromped off to the local taxi stand where we were set to rendezvous with Thary. We fended off the regular shouted offers from moto drivers and tuk tuks as we walked. Getting closer to the taxi stand, cars started pulling over and shouting at us from their windows, “Phnom Penh?” “Sihanouk?” It slowly dawned on me that these regular looking cars were supposed to be the local taxis and they were assuming that the two white kids with packs on were looking for a ride. Just as three taxi drivers were literally running for us, Thary pulled up in her pickup truck like a knight in shining red steel, and drove us to her little oasis, the Hang Guesthouse. Hang is just a few meters off the map of Kampot, but years in Belgium have given the hoteliers a healthy respect for bicycles which they lend to guests for free, making everything in Kampot easy to reach. Being off the map just means that Hang guests can enjoy quiet seclusion.

Culture Shock :: Cambodia

Remember when I said that in Thailand everything was different? Well scratch that. I was wrong. We’ve now been to Cambodia. During our month here I’ve come up with many metaphors and stories that could help you understand what it’s like in this country, but in the end I don’t feel right using any of them, because the more I learn about Cambodia, the more I realize I’ll never understand it. Thailand is as familiar as Europe compared to the land of the Khmer people.

Below are some of the quirky things we’ve noticed. If you want to get a deeper knowledge of Cambodia, you’ll have to read some books and visit the country, because they’re still figuring it out themselves.