Acclamation and Exploration!

Xin Jao again!

Today we have completed our first week of travels in Asia and already we are overwhelmed with how much we want to tell you. We will do our best to highlight our adventures selectively. Please keep in mind we are on bottle two of the infamous Vang Dalat red wine (explanations to come upon next posting).

Our last week consisted of boating and biking through the lush and simplistic daily life of the Mekong Delta. We took a boat down the Mekong River through a floating market. Dozens of wooden boats, circa 1932, were homes to families, each selling a unique products such as sweet potatos, pinapples, pumpkins, etc. Each vessel was filled to the brim with merchandise, children, laundry, and dogs. Due to Chinese influence, parts on the Mekong Delta restrict families to two children. We saw first hand how Vietamese make rice paper, coconut candy, popcorn, puffed rice, and other local products. We then visited a laquer-art factory, manned by handicapped grown children of Vientnam War veterans who suffer from diseases caused by Agent Orange and other chemical remnants. Traveling among ox-filled rice paddies we trucked out to the Cao Dai Temple, worshiping the combined religion of Taoism, Buddism, and Confucionism. We observed a traditional ceremony which traditionally occures three times daily at the hours of 6am, 12pm, and 6pm. This was one of the most empowering experiences of the Mekong Delta.

Our next stop was an afternoon visit to the Cu Chi Tunnels which were underground avenues of the Viet Cong during the Vietnam War. It was humbling to learn about their ingenuity in fighting against American military with so few resources. We crawled guideless 64 meters through dark, narrow tunnels, until claustrophobia got the better of us and we abandoned our mission. Once on safe ground we compensated by each firing a deffening round from an M16 rifle, each missing our targets by possibly more than 64 meters.

Moving north from the Mekong Delta we traveled six hours to sleepy, yet entertaining Mui Ne, our first beach destination. This spectacular stretch of white sand beach winded through both red and white sand dunes. We spent two lazy days with fellow German and English travelers who encouraged us to rent our first moped. By day two Lisa arguably  dominated the combersome vehicle; the jury is still out on Vietnamese drivers. We still have faith in Gabi, seeing she is still recovering from her crash on a moped in Mexico.

Our European friends provoked both continuous laughter and incredulous looks between the two of us. Most memorable was the contrast of our two German friends. Robert and Jenny were polar opposites. Robert: endearing, chubby, boisterous, narcesistic, and originating from a liberal western German city. Jenny: smiling, slender, elegant , timid and originating from a conservative southern German village. Robert, never learning the definition of silence, unsurprisingly invited us on a moped beer run. Within seconds, driving sober of course, we arrived at our destination…two doors down from our origin. Laughs were had by all. Our short drive home ended in a five km. “detour” to “moon-lit night rocks;” a visit which lasted only minutes. Three km. into our return home, our endearing German friend Robert, embarrasingly ran out of gas. Laughs were had by all, this time including surrounding locals. Coming to the rescue, Gabi and  English Dan returned with a water bottle full of gas. Although exhausted, upon return to our hostel, new diverse friends were added and lively, argumentative conversations were had into wee hours of the night.

We were sad to leave Mui Ne so quickly, however we heard the central highlands of Vientnam calling our names. Just before departure to Da Lat, Gabi’s backpacker-protective-bedsheet was accidentally mixed up in the hostel’s daily laundry.  After multiple sharade like attempts Gabi ending up rumaging through the laundry in the home of the hostel owners, an elderly couple looking roughly 75 (most likely going on 97 for Vietnamese aging standards). Thankfully having found her sheet in the clean laundry pile, Gabi celebrating with annimation. From their living room the “75” year-old woman roused Gabi’s attention by entering the room topless. She proceeded to climb into Gabi’s clean sleeping bag sheet, wrapping it around her head while making jovial faces; surrounding body parts were uncomfortably hanging low. These elderly hostel ownders were our favorites thus far. They spent approximately 20 hours per day lying in front-yard hammoks drinking “tea” (suspectedly vodka), smoking hookah, and yelling uncomprehendable Vietnamese upon our arrivals and departures from our lodging, via moped.

While we would love to share all, mind you these are only a few of our continuous experiences. These stories are and will be never ending…

Nho (we miss and love you all)!