Ko Samet: my island getaway

Back in early April, after surviving the Cambodian heat and landing in Ho Chi Minh City, I realized that the traffic and temperatures of SE Asia weren't about to let up. This month of travels was going to be more exhausting than I'd realized, and some beach time was in order. So I inquired about Ho Tram Beach, which I soon learned was much farther from Ho Chi Minh City than I'd initially thought.

A change had to be made to my carefully constructed itinerary. There was no way that this girl could do a month backpacking alongside the world's most beautiful beaches without sinking her toes into at least one of them. That is how I wound up spending my first afternoon in Ho Chi Minh City planted in front of my hostel computer, researching which city on my itinerary was closest to a beach.

Answer: Bangkok, where I'd planned to return for the last two nights of my month-long travels. From Bangkok, the island of Ko Samet and its glorious white sand beaches were only four hours away by bus.

The island of Ko Samet, a mere 4-hour bus ride from Bangkok, welcomes weary travelers.

A few hours and about $100 later, I'd modified my Chiang Mai-Bangkok flight, I'd altered my hostel reservations in Chiang Mai and in Bangkok, and I'd secured an Airbnb room on the island of Ko Samet, my new final destination on my month-long exploration.

My home on Ko Samet, thanks to Airbnb host Lizzie

To get to the point (not always my greatest skill), the island was totally worth it, 100%. I only wish I'd had another day.

Before I made it to the island, however, I was once again confronted by a culture phenomenon which I'd love to better understand: ladyboys. At first I'd simply assumed they were cross-dressing prostitutes. Having a label, I thought it made sense, though I'll admit I was thrown off when I saw one having ice cream with a Thai man in a fancy Bangkok ice cream parlor. And this couple were the only two willing to come to my rescue when I was struggling to order my ice cream across a language barrier. I'd been struck by how normal they'd seemed that day, how the ladyboy in this ice cream parlor hadn't turned a single head. At the port in Ban Phe, while waiting for my ferry to Ko Samet, the realization struck again: here they were, the ladyboys, serving me my Thai iced tea alongside cis-gendered coworkers. At another booth, a ladyboy was selling hotel rooms... to families. No one was shielding their children from the sight. So what was it about this country and their ladyboys? Who were they? Cross-dressing prostitutes? Homosexuals seeking out a culturally validated means of exercizing their sexuality? Transgender people? This was a question with which I'd leave the country.

Back on point, Ko Samet was stunningly beautiful. And the bikini selection on the island was surprisingly stylish, important as the elephants in Chiang Mai had muddied my previous bathing suit beyond repair. My Scottish host Lizzie was gracious and had a life of adventures to share. She welcomed me into her home and family for the evening, taking me out with her Thai and Swedish friends for dinner, a concert, a fire show, and an evening dancing by the beach. She showed me what Airbnb can be at its best: a means not only to find a bed for the night but also a welcome into the local community and a perspective on a place that a tourist simply can't attain after just a day or two in town.

Ko Samet, a fantastic island getaway readily accessible, yet worlds away, from Bangkok

I hope this won't be my last stay on the island.

Chiang Mai, my land of the elephants

The country of Laos is known as the land of a thousand elephants. However, Chiang Mai was my destination when it came to elephants. I had been fighting against my better self over the past half week to resist the temptation to visit an elephant park near Luang Prabang, where all visits included an elephant ride and mahout training. (Mahout is the title of an elephant trainer.) Elephants aren't always terribly fond of mahouts nor of giant wooden structures strapped to their backs in which tourists plop down for a ride. But things are different in Chiang Mai. Yes, there are still plenty of places there which will let you perch your butt atop an elephant, but if a different experience is more to your liking, this is the place to go. Online, I'd read up on the Mae Sa Elephant Conservatory, but upon arrival, my hostel owner suggested a similar site where a baby elephant had just been born: the Elephant Retirement Park. This was, hands down, the coolest thing I did on my trip.

Here, I got to know 26-year-old second-time mother Buathong, 10-year-old Phet, 15-year-old Ben, 3-year-old Ngam, et 13-day-old (eee!) baby Lanna.

Ben
Ben is a picky eater, and will only eat fully ripe bananas. (The elephants in this park also eat corn and sugar cane.) At 15 years old, Ben is not yet fully grown. While taking some tourists for a ride one day, she made a misstep and fell, injuring her leg. In response, her owners locked her in a cage and prevented the injury from properly healing. She is now on lease and is healing at the Elephant Retirement Park. (Elephants are very expensive to buy, so all the adults at the park are currently on lease.)

Phet
Phet loves to hug the visitors, but he wasn't always so trusting. He was rescued from an elephant camp after he simply refused to continue working because he had been so badly abused that he stopped responding to humans. A mahout at the Elephant Retirement Park had to kneel before Phet offering him bananas for many hours before he was even willing to interact enough to accept food from a human.

Ngam
Ngam is a little over 2.5 years old and he too was already seriously abused in his short life. He is a friendly one these days, and his trunk wanders a bit much when he goes in for his slobbier kisses.

Buathong
Buathong just gave birth to her second baby, Lanna. The pregnancy came as a bit of a surprise to the Elephant Retirement Park. They hadn't realized just how friendly she'd been with another male elephant who has since been transferred to another elephant sanctuary. That wasn't a problem for Buathong since, in elephant social structure, only the females live together and they collectively care for the young. An elephant's gestation period is 22-24 months, so Lanna had plenty of time to beef up before her birth. Buathong was in labor with Lanna for a full day, and the entire surrounding village heard her screams and grunts. Her baby has only gained about 5 pounds since her birth, and at around 200 lbs, that's no easy birth. One surprising thing I learned when meeting Buathong is that elephant udders/breasts are unexpectedly high up on the chest, and there is only a pair of them. They looked weirdly human (just gray and wrinkly) compared to cows, cats, dogs, and goats (the only other animals whose mammary glands I've seen in person).

Lanna
Baby Lanna is only 13 days old, and is a little wobbly on her feet. She is also quite furry-- who knew baby elephants had so much extra hair? She is already very curious and wants to explore everything, so mama Buathong has to constantly use her trunk to keep Lanna in line.

The Elephant Retirement Park is an organization which rescues abused and overworked elephants. Instead of the guests riding elephants and watching them do tricks, we learn the commands to get the elephants to open their mouths (so we can feed them bananas), to hug us, and to kiss us. (Elephant kisses are kind of slobbery and involve a lot of suction.) They also taught us how to tell the elephants when they'd done well (the equivalent of telling a dog "Good boy/girl"). We spent the day feeding the elephants, bathing with them, and rolling in the mud together.

The elephants love to roll around and splash in the water with the visitors. It's a little scary when suddenly an elephant foot or trunk pops up right next to you in the water (mostly for the sake of your toes!) but it is so insanely cool. We scratched and scrubbed and splashed and pet the elephants. They were happy to interact. You could even put out your hand and they would clasp it in their trunk or even wrap their trunk around your wrist in a sort of playful elephant handshake. (From the strength in their grip, I was really happy that these elephants were not temperamental!)

We learned that elephants flap their ears and wag their tails when they are happy, but we didn't need that lesson to see that these elephants were clearly in a good place emotionally. And 13-day-old baby Lanna was the best thing ever. This place is a must-see for anyone visiting Chiangmai or anywhere in Thailand.

The Elephant Retirement Park: I can't recommend this place strongly enough.

It was a pity I wasn't able to squeeze in more time in Chiang Mai itself. I think Chiang Mai would be a great place to kick back for a half week or so. The food is up to the delicious Thai standard with which Bangkok had spoiled me, and yet the city itself is calm and laid back, a real hippie destination. Some fellow hostelers and I actually spent an evening at a reggae bar listening to a local band called the Reggae Croissant.

But late April temperatures outside were eating me alive, and I will confess that on my only full day in Chiang Mai, I checked off a few temples and monuments mostly to say I'd been-there-done-that. I proceeded to spend most of the day getting massaged and enjoying a Starbucks iced coffee that bought me a few hours of mid-day air conditioning. (Monsoon season in Southeast Asia begins around June, and the time building up to it can become rather unbearable.)

Chiang Mai: been there, done that, could use to do it again when it's a little less hot and humid.

Recommendations: Don't wait until late April to go to Chiang Mai. And be sure to visit the Elephant Retirement Park.

Happy New Year from Luang Prabang!

When I think back on Luang Prabang, I remember the New Year's water fights. The Lao New Year begins on April 14, but from April 12 or 13 through the 17th, the city breaks into an all out water war. The locals form teams, they print t-shirts, even the children prepare for battle with cartoon-themed water tanks trapped to their backs. What a fantastic and fun-loving way to ring in the new year! Or so it seemed. But by the end of day 2, it started getting old. After all, in this conservative culture, you can't just enjoy the water fights in a bikini, so you're stuck spending your days wandering around in soppy, clingy clothing. At some point, the dyed waters started entering into the mix. And keeping one's camera and valuables safe and dry is easier said than done. By the end of day 3 or 4, I started getting to the tipping point. There were just so many water fights. Far, far too many water fights...

Lao people celebrating New Years in typical Laos fashion.

At least after sundown, the water guns were tucked away and the evening festivities felt more accessible.

Happy Lao New Year! All the locals kept pulling us into their celebrations and insisting we share a drink with them.

But first let's take a step back. After all, this trip to Luang Prabang began in perfect serenity, at a time when the occasional water gun through the van window was welcomed: my trip to the Kuang Si waterfalls.

Kuang Si waterfalls

Attached to the Tat Kuang Si (water falls) park is the Bear Rescue Center, where world's first bear neurosurgery was performed in 2013. Pretty cool!

The Lao people demonstrated a greater apparent respect for and consciousness of the environment than I'd observed in Vietnam and Cambodia, whether or not this is a marketing ploy. It was neat to see how many environmental initiatives and educational plaques were posted around the park. I was, however, a bit disappointed that all the nearby elephant reserves, while making a point to advertise their roles in environmental protection and support of the locals, still offered elephant riding. It was tough, but I resisted a visit. I'm not so sure elephant riding makes the elephants happy, and while I want to support locals and the environment, it shouldn't be at the cost of the elephants.

Not only did the locals demonstrate a concern for the environment, but they also offered a genuine kindness toward the tourists, despite knowing that we are far more financially comfortable than them. Their haggling was much less aggressive. They weren't nearly as fond of their car horns as were the Vietnamese. They weren't parading their sick or disabled. There were very few beggars. And most notably, we couldn't stop them from inviting us into their homes to feed us! (This may have been happening because it is considered auspicious in Laos to welcome guests into your home over the new year.)

I was completely charmed by the local pride and enthusiasm for the burgeoning tourism industry. They hoisted banners in their parade touting Luang Prabang as the winner of Wanderlust's Best City 2015 award, noting that it marked the 7th time it's earned this distinction. The locals regularly stopped us in the street to practice their English with us, which was really impressive next to what I'd seen in Vietnam and Cambodia. Many of them were actually able to chat about really random topics. The Lao children apparently begin studying English in elementary school, and it showed! And, of course, who can forget just how often the Lao people asked us if we were traveling alone only to say, "Why you don't come with friends? You should go home and tell friends about Laos, and then come back again with friends." From the time I landed in the airport until the time I took off, it seemed the whole country was in cahoots to send us home with messages to send our friends to Laos.

Generally, Luang Prabang offered a much more laidback atmosphere than what I'd seen up to this point in my travels across SE Asia. In terms of the ambiance and locals, this was definitely my top country. And on one other factor, Laos also came out ahead: traditional massages. The traditional Lao massage is in the same vein as the Thai, but slightly softer, the perfect balance between deep muscle massaging and avoidance of (transient) pains. And I visited the massage parlor with a European professional massage therapist, who agreed with my assessment (though she was more pro-Thai massage). Me, I could have spent all day getting Lao massages. 

Traditional Lao massage parlor. (In my eyes, the parlor could also easily pass for traditional Thai.)

The poverty much more carefully hidden than it was in Siem Reap, where the Cambodians seemed to be interested in putting it on display in the hopes of garnering more tourist dollars. This just made the entire experience here so much more soothing. It was easier to relax without my conscience constantly nagging at me over my advantages as a rich Westerner.

Random images from across Luang Prabang

Another really cool aspect of Luang Prabang was all the Hmong art on display in the stores. The Hmong are an ethnic group found in Laos and northern Thailand, and they do some incredible work. Their art consists of intricate, colorful embroidered clothing and finely carved silver jewelry. I'll confessed to having even caved to taking home a piece as a souvenir.

My fancy Hmong necklace

There were so many temples scattered across this city (and they served as great hiding places from the water fights), but the coolest by far was Vat Souvannakhiri, pictured below. Here, we met a friendly monk who taught us about the practice and how monks can come and go from the orders without negative repercussions or pressure from the monastery. The monasteries here actually serve, among other roles, as a place for young kids and adolescents to go for an education. The monk who chatted with us explained that he planned to leave the monastery the following year to pursue a university education (and that, once he left the order, he would finally be allowed to defend himself during the New Year's water wars!).

Survived another day of water fighting! Hiding out at Vat Souvannakhiri until sundown, when the fighting subsides.

Vat Souvannakhiri, the most impressive temple I saw in Luang Prabang and overall one of the coolest little temples around SE Asia. Fantastic blend of golden sculptures, golden intricate and ornate paintings, and vibrantly-colored mirror-mosaics made the entire place sparkle.

On my last day in Laos, I decided to escape the water fighting with a biking and kayaking touring with one of my new solo traveler friends, the aforementioned massage therapist. We biked along streets carved out of the jungle and kayaked past bathing elephants, cobra holes on the water's edge, and almost fully submersed water buffalo hiding from the heat. Finally, some villagers at the town where we wrapped up our kayaking invited us in for some food cooked freshly for us on the fire pit just outside their one-room hut. It was a pretty exotic and humbling day.

Our biking and kayaking trip through the nearby wilderness and down a tributary to the Mekong.

And can't forget this cutie from the end of our kayaking trip.

Speaking of cuties: I can't write about my time in Luang Prabang without mentioning my new friends, the kittens! These very dirty and tiny, motherless kittens found a fellow traveler and me on the street. After cuddling them for a half hour, we could hardly walk away and leave them to a certain death, so we convinced my hostel to host them, found some street food to their liking, bathed them, got them into a cozy warm bed, and spent the evening cuddling. We'd had our doubts, but they survived that first night in bed with me in a basket lined with a scarf, waking me up early in the morning to demand some more cuddles. Strengthened by our TLC (and the fish nuggets), these guys quickly became the new mascots at my very fun and social hostel, where we ended our nights to live guitar music on the rooftop and started the days with delicious breakfasts cooked to order each morning.

My Lao besties, our rescued kittens!

Soon enough, the New Year's celebrations and my time in Laos came to an end. I rode out my last day of defenseless water fighting napping on a bench in a monument park, safe from the action and enjoying the sun.

My last sundown in Laos

I'm hopeful that this won't be my last trip to Laos.

Treat Yo'self Day(s) in Hanoi and Halong Bay

After a brief respite in Phong Nha and Dong Hoi (the city with the airport closest to Phong Nha), I suddenly found myself back in the hubub of a Southeast Asian city and determined to find a proper escape from the nonstop honking and near-death experiences each time I crossed the street. And so, my arrival in Hanoi morphed into Treat Yo'self Day: I got a leg wax, a Vietnamese coffee scrub, and my first-ever pedicure (in Barbie pink, of course!) at a spa.

Touring Hoan Kiem Lake as the sun set over my Treat Yo'self Day

I paid (for the first and last time this month) to have someone else do my laundry. I picked up my big souvenirs for the month's travels: two gorgeous handmade lacquer ceramic vases. A local art, all sorts of unusual vases are sold all over Vietnam, but I have to say, these two were my favorites.

Vases from VietCraft which went on to fill up the bulk of my carry-on backpack for the rest of my travels across SE Asia.

And finally, I signed up for a luxury one-night cruise on the Halong Bay.

Halong Bay: so promising before the thunderstorms rolled in

Sadly, like all good things, Treat Yo'self Day had to come to an end, and did so distinctly before the cruise began. While the vases remain an intact remnant of that lovely day, the rest of the day's luxuries rapidly disintegrated, first of which was certainly the "luxury" cruise. Despite the positive reviews on tripadvisor, I entered my room to see a stream of water flowing down one wall. With not-so-distant memories of another Vietnamese room flood coming to mind, I preemptively stacked my luggage on my bed and was very grateful for the forethought when I returned later that night to find the same sort of musical performance pattering against my floorboards as had visited my bunkbed just a few days prior, back in Ho Chi Minh City. The key difference, however, was that this time I had paid 20 times more for the same deal! After a night spent spooning my suitcases, I was reimbursed a total of approximately $6, or 1/30 of the cost of the cruise. Coupled with the cloud cover and evening thunder storms, Halong Bay was an all around disappointment. Beyond an enjoyable hour-long kayak trip, I pretty much wasted my money on this one. I am not confident that these countries have mastered the concept of customer service as it pertains to luxury tourist experiences.

Halong Bay cruise, complete with visit to a pearl farm, kayaking, spring roll cook/prep lessons, and one very leaky room.

An unexpected challenge in Vietnam was the quest for some decent food. While ingredients often tasted fresh, Vietnam fell short of Thai standards when it came to rich, intense flavors and vegetarian options. And beware of their meats: unlike the Thai, Vietnamese openly acknowledge eating dogs, and the reality shows in the countries' respective populations of stray dogs. That said, I did manage to stumble across a few real finds. The most memorable was The Lantern Lounge (2nd floor, 80 Ma May, Hoan Kiem, Hanoi), where we sat on pillows, the dim room lit by the soft hues of a hundred different brightly colored lanterns. (You can see a photo in the bottom left corner of the collage.) Here, my pineapple curry fried rice was actually served to me in a fresh pineapple. The relaxed atmosphere felt miles away from the street one floor below. And on my last day, I discovered the Lucky Day Restaurant (62 Hang Bo St., Hoan Kiem, Hanoi), where the service was shockingly slow but the end product worth the wait: The fried noodles and seafood were the most fresh and flavorful dish I had across Vietnam. 

Dining in Hanoi

Generally, to give Hanoi some credit, it has more charm than Ho Chi Minh City. The Old Quarter can be a lot of fun for meandering. The narrow winding streets give this part of town an intimate feel. And the city stays up late and wakes early, so no matter your schedule, you'll be entertained.

Wandering through Hanoi, mostly the Old Quarter

I spent my final day in Hanoi visiting the Ho Chi Minh Museum and Mausoleum. I was surprised by how artistically the museum had been curated. The displays were all beautifully presented. There were many families visiting with children, and the young visitors enthusiastically posing in salute next to images of Ho Chi Minh seemed somehow very sweet.

Me at the Ho Chi Minh Museum

Exhibits from the Ho Chi Minh Museum artistically illustrate the Vietnam War, and Ho Chi Minh's struggles, strategies, and victories.

The Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum

I was surprised by how much I'd enjoyed the museum, as it was a last minute thought to throw it into my itinerary. Ending the city and country on a high point was a great way to wrap things up. After a brisk walk back to my hostel, I hopped a taxi, Thai iced tea in hand, vases carefully wrapped up in my backpack, and bags carefully loaded. Next destination: Luang Prabang, Laos.

Recommendations: 

If you do Halong Bay, try to book according to the weather forecast, and above all, avoid Majestic Cruises!

Worth checking out: The Lantern Lounge, the Ho Chi Minh Museum 

Jungle trekking, cave swimming, and hammock camping

From the moment I arrived in my Lake House Resort in Phong Nha on the night before my scheduled two-day caving trek, I knew I'd come to the right place. This place was a 45 minute drive from an airport so small that it actually shuts down in between scheduled flights. There was more traffic from cows than cars on the road to Phong Nha.

Not in Saigon anymore: More traffic from cows than motor vehicles in and around Phong Nha

There was a soft silence and calm for which I'd begun to ache. And the beauty of the nature was nearly heartbreaking for someone coming from the smoggy cities not so far away.

The Phong Nha Lake House Resort where I stayed the night before my caving trek.

The Phong Nha-Ke Bang National Park is on the UNESCO World Heritage list. Its karst formations have evolved since the Paleozoic era (~400 million years old), making it the oldest karst formations in Asia. The park covers 104 km (~65 miles) of underground caves and rivers, including Sơn Đoòng Cave, discovered in 2009, the world's largest cave, so big it can fit a Boeing 747 in its largest cavern. (That's just one reason I have to return to this region!)

Our trek began near the misty karst mountains by base camp.

The hiking crew setting off for our two-day trek

For my time in Phong Nha, I opted to explore the Tu Lan caves. 

On our second morning, we swam into Tu Lan Cave, shown here, one of the four caves on our trek.

The Tu Lan cave circuit included four caves: Hang Ken, Hang Kim, Hung Ton, and Tu Lan caves. And the overnight trek also included a barbecue (with vegetarian options!) and camping in hammocks in the jungle. But the biggest selling feature of this trek was the fact that these four caves are filled with water, and exploring them involves swimming through them with headlamps and waterproof backpacks.

Venturing in for our first cave swim!

Group photo deep within Ken Cave.

Floating and swimming through in the dark cavernous caves was just one extended awestruck moment filled with the realization that I was living one of the cooler experiences that I will ever have in life.

Chilling before dinner outside the Ken Cave.

My fellow hikers also did a lot of to round out the experience with their interesting life stories. And a pair of them were even doing this trek as part of their honeymoon. How cool is that?

Kicking off Day 2 of the trek

I also can't go without mentioning my caving team. I went with Oxalis Adventure Tours, which I would highly recommend. The guides were professional, very good at English, attentive and yet not overly protective. Porters hiked ahead of us with the camping equipment, but the trek wasn't for the weak of heart. There were very minimal railings and no trail markers along the way, but it also wasn't too vicious: when one of the hikers started showing signs of fatigue early on, the guides phoned back to base for an extra porter so that our fellow hiker could keep pace. And in the evening, the tour guides cooked us dinner and chatted with us about their lives. Overall Oxalis does a great job of giving a non-touristy jungle trek to small groups interested in diving deep into nature for a few days.

Our Tu Lan trekking guides

Phong Nha was the best part of my travels through Vietnam. I sincerely hope to return one day. And with over 100 km of caves in the area, there's definitely much more to see!

Two-day one-night Oxalis Tu Lan Cave Encounter

Recommendations:
Check out Oxalis's caving company!

Pack Teva hiking sandals for the swimming instead of using proper hiking boots

Saigon, Cu Chi, and the Mekong Delta

Country #3 on the grand tour: Vietnam. Finally, here, I'd scheduled several stops as traveling north through the country. I began down south in Ho Chi Minh City, formerly known as Saigon (a name whose usage still appears pretty frequently throughout the city). The heat was a mere 35 or so Celsius against Cambodia's 40+ Celsius (triple digits Fahrenheit), but when coupled with the humidity and the smog, the midday heat was still hardly bearable. As soon as I planted my bags in the dorm and ventured down the street, I wondered just how welcome I would be as an American: parades of blended civilian and military-dress people were marching down the streets and saluting. Children played around papier mache tanks, and posters advertized month-long celebrations marking the fortieth anniversary of the capture of Saigon, that same victory which spelled defeat for my own countrymen. Continue with caution, I figured.

My fears quickly allayed, it seemed that every local I encountered was pleased by my presence, especially those who could convince me to loosen my purse strings. And given the prices here, that didn't take much persuasion. I quickly settled in at an outdoor cafe with some fresh fruit juices to watch a 40th anniversary celebratory concert which, after some frighteningly angry Communist chanting to kick things off, was generally pretty entertaining.

The beginnings of April 2015's month-long celebrations of the 40th anniversary of the taking of Ho Chi Minh City. Westerners welcome.

I had an early start to the following day in order to catch a tour through the Mekong Delta. Honestly, if I were to do this again, I'd skip it entirely. Unless you have a half-week to a week to go through on your own for an authentic feel for the place, it's not so worth the travel time. Our tour took us through four different islands where locals briefly showed us a craft, livelihood, or tradition and promptly tried to shove associated products down our faces. Yes, the beehives were cool, as were the traditional dances and song. It was interesting to watch the regionally ubiquitous coconut candies in production (even though they were nearly impossible to dislodge from my teeth) and watching crocodiles pant like dogs in the heat was thoroughly entertaining. That said, I could have done without the tour and, most especially, the sexual advances from my tour guide. The only plus was that he so thoroughly targeted every female on the tour that the Japanese, Chinese, and Western tourists were all banding together and doing our best to make jokes across our diverse cultures to protect each other and ease the tension.

The Mekong Delta- worth more than a day trip if you want to really experience it

The Cu Chi tunnels, on the other hand, were absolutely worth the visit. The trip was powerful, inspirational, and a little depressing. Our guide showed us just how narrow this tunnel system was, and I felt amazed by the lengths to which the people were willing to go to protect their homeland. Then the guide showed us a series of tiger traps built from scrap metal from US bombs in order to bring unsuspecting US soldiers to grisly ends. And in case the demonstrations of the actions of the various traps with a bamboo stick wasn't enough, their were paintings of US soldiers with characture-esquely white facial features falling into pits screaming with blood shooting out. I looked at them and imagined all the poor young men drafted against their will, andd it made me so sad. Our guide didn't make light of the traps, but obviously approached the issue from another perspective. Our guide showed us many little tricks the people developed to help support life over extended periods in the underground tunnel network. Smoke from underground kitchens was directed through narrow tunnels and out into gaps between tree roots, where fallen leaves could hide the ventilation and were replaced daily to prevent US soldiers from becoming suspicious over charred leaves. The locals also built shoes with wider heels than toes so that any footprints they left behind indicated they'd been walking in the opposite direction. I was so impressed by the locals' ingenuity, and left with no question as to why they'd won the war. Wrapping up our tour, the guide, who was my age, served us boiled tapioca which we dipped in ground peanuts, and explained to us that this and rice were the extent of his diet, three meals per day, every day of the week, as a kid in the late '80s and early '90s. Thinking back to the hot pot I'd had the night before and the street foods I'd enjoyed alongside locals, I was astounded to taste such a stark symbol of how this country's wealth has evolved over the course of my lifetime. It's amazing to observe the resilience and resourcefulness of these people.

The Cu Chi Tunnels

Back in the city, the joys of hoteling reared their ugly head once again. The first installment of hostel fun had arrived on night 1 in Bangkok, where a minute's abandonment of my towel in my shower stall in order to run back and lock up my wallet which I'd accidentally left on my bed resulted in an hour sitting outside the stall listening to the musical aftermath of someone else's night out drinking, followed by another hour of airing out my towel before I was brave enough to attempt using it on my freshly bathed body. Here, I returned home to make two rather unpleasant discoveries: 1. the floor in my dorm was slightly tilted toward my corner of the room, and 2. this tilt was made evident by the leaky air conditioning unit that had exclusively flooded the space under my bed where I had had the misfortune of leaving all my luggage. But in case that wasn't enough fun, the aforementioned leaky air conditioner sooner began an irregular pattern of rain onto my pillow. Not exactly the recipe for a good night's sleep (or two). Finally I even had to move for my last night to the hostel across the street, a move I regretted as I had so enjoyed the company of (some of) the fellow hostelers back where I'd begun.

Among interesting encounters, one toward the top of the list throughout the month was an American historian/trial lawyer/Vietnam vet who was staying in this first (flooded) hostel. He had the kindness and patience of an archetypal grandpa coupled with some fascinating life stories which he shared over a dinner one evening. He's made a historical investigation into his personal life project, and it has led him to many interesting and unexpected destinations on the quest for the truth. I'm looking forward to seeing his work published soon.

Good food, good company: Shared Vietnamese hot pots with an American Vietnam vet who shared his compelling life story

It was towards the end of my time in this city that I began to notice something strange: it is now significantly easier for me to understand the French than heavily-accented Australians or New Zealanders. Given that the latter share my native language, I was rather taken aback.

Over drinks at this bar with some fellow hostelers, I came to realize just how much easier it's become for me to understand Parisian French than Australian English. Not something I'd expected to discover on my travels.

My last morning, I discovered a surprisingly trendy cafe with Nordic decor, where I enjoyed the most relaxing moment I'd had in the past half-week. The Vietnamese are quite fond of coffee and have their own particularly strong way of preparing it, though any of their many coffee cafes will serve you in a dozen or more different styles to your heart's desire. In retrospect, these cafes merited more of my time in Saigon. They likely would have served as the Vietnamese equivalent of Bangkok's temples for me: little oases in the middle of the insanity of a Southeast Asian city. 

The noisy, smoggy, fast-paced lifestyle of Ho Chi Minh City

Recommendations:

Make sure to take the time to relax and escape the fast-paced city in one of the many coffeehouses like Alo Trà (address: 212 Lê Lai Bến Thành Quận 1 Bến Thành Quận 1 Hồ Chí Minh, Vietnam)

Take a half-day to check out the Cu Chi tunnels

Angkor, the mother of all temple complexes

Next stop on the grand tour of Southeast Asia: Siem Reap, Cambodia, home of Angkor Wat, many other temple complexes, several capitals of the Khmer Empire dating from the 9th to 15th centuries, and the remains of the world's largest pre-industrial city. (Thank you, wikiTravel.)

From the get-go, this place was a surprise. The hotel-provided taxi service arrived in the form of a tuk-tuk, a vehicle I'd carefully avoided in Bangkok. Soon I found myself loaded up in an open-air cart-type structure hooked up to the back of a motorbike. (As I said in my last entry, people in Southeast Asia will strap about anything on a motorbike!) The ride was bumpy, but not entirely unpleasant. As long as I kept a firm grip on my sunhat, the wind rushing through my hair was quite welcome, even if it came with quite a lost of dust.

My first tuk-tuk ride

My second surprise came just a few minutes later when, short on cash to pay the hotel, my tuk-tuk drove me around the corner to withdraw. Here, I found that the ATM was spitting out US dollars! Only later did I discover that they do also have their own currency, which they use as a substitute for US coins. Basically, instead of getting 50 cents in change, you'll find yourself being handed a couple of Cambodian bills.

On that first night in Cambodia, I met an elderly American man with his Cambodian escort, and we ended up sharing conversation over dinner at our hotel. He had a life story, one that was sad, even tragic, at times, and at other moments left him very much the one at fault. Getting to hear one person's life path that would bring him to a retirement spent half-time in Southeast Asia (and in the company of much younger women) rather amazed me, perhaps because it is so easy to imagine such a character as a monster, which he wasn't. It was rather fascinating to see the embodiment of a stereotype in flesh and blood, to see a human being at once very flawed yet still very human.

I planned two full days around Angor Wat to explore the temples, and I'm pleased to say that I found this to be enough. Things kicked off with sunrise at Angor Wat on Day 1. This called for a wake-up call around 4am, which meant we were already roughing it, especially in my book.

Sunrise over Angor Wat

Angkor Wat

After a few hours at Angkor Wat, my tuk-tuk driver and I began doing the rounds of the temples. I quickly learned that there were two main architectural styles: Hindu (12th-13th centuries), marked by three large, central towers in a row; and Buddhist (13th-14th centuries), marked by entryways topped with four faces of the Buddha, one looking out in each cardinal direction. This region transitioned from predominantly Hindu to Buddhist during the height of the temple building era.

Angkor Archeological Park, Day 1

I distinctly recall an overwhelming frustration that I had been so oblivious to this clearly extraordinary culture and civilization which had flourished in what my history books referred to as the "Dark Ages," which were clearly a period that was anything but dark in this part of the world. That said, these parts had their own darkness in much more recent memory, the remnants of which still walk, or hobble, through the streets today. At the end of our first day touring the temples, my tuk-tuk driver took me to some killing fields right near Siem Reap. Here, a memorial stood to the nameless victims, their skeletons dug out of the mass graves and put on display behind glass walls. Donors who had "generously" helped fund the memorial with as little as $5 US were listed by name, such was the value of money here. It made me feel sick.

A Khmer Rouge killing fields memorial.
I've superimposed a close-up of what peers back at visitors from behind the glass panels at the top of the memorial's stairs to capture its relative emotional size, in hopes of conveying the bewildering experience of seeing this firsthand.

The emotional exhaustion was compounded by the positively overwhelming heat, which was like nothing I have ever known. Determined to see as many temples I could manage, I pushed on and plowed through water bottle after water bottle, practically swimming in my perspiration as temperatures soared through the hundreds Fahrenheit and humidity climbed steadily higher. I was rather horrified to discover that no matter how humid it felt, my handwashed clothing still dried in just an hour or two at such temperatures. I wanted to scream, how could this air possibly hold any more moisture?! At night I slept in undergarments without even a sheet and still felt cozy. Cambodia's weather showed no mercy.

On Day 2, we ventured far out from most of the temple complexes to visit Banteay Srei, the Lady Temple. With all its finely carved and well-preserved detail, this was probably the coolest temple after Angor Wat itself, and was well-worth the extra fee to venture far off the beaten path. Banteay Srei is a Hindu temple completed in 967 AD, but significantly renovated in the 11th and 12th centuries. Over the years it was forgotten, only to be rediscovered by explorers in the early 20th century.

Angkor Archeological Park, Day 2

Another highlight was the macaques we spotted along the side of the road in between temples. Apparently they're a friendly species and children often grow up playing with them, though my driver told me that they'd frightened him as a child.

Macaques like to play on the side of the roads near the Angkor temples. They will reach up and try to grab things straight out of your hands. And the weirdest thing is to realize how eerily human those hands feel.

Besides the temples, one of the coolest things I saw in and around Siem Reap was the leather carving, and honestly I regret not having splurged to pick up a piece along the way. The decorative carved leather figures were used for Sbek Thom, a shadow puppetry performance recognized by UNESCO as an Intangible Heritage of Humanity. These shadow puppets were used only several times a year for performances on important holidays. Under the Khmer Rouge regime in the late 1970s, the art was nearly destroyed, but work has been done to preserve the art over the past few decades.

Traditional Khmer leather carvings on display

To be honest, I didn't make the purchase as I'd found myself so much on the defensive trying to evade locals attempting to sell me anything and everything. I found the people really straining, especially the children. They seemed to have an uncanny ability to memorize every word you said as you entered a temple and to be able to throw it back at you on your way out in an effort to convince you to purchase from them, reminding you that they didn't have the money for school and just wanted to study. It was heartbreaking. Many of the temples had little bandstands set up where land mine victims performed traditional music with their worn-out prosthetics propped against the side of the stage. It ripped my heart out, but I couldn't afford to pay every one of these groups. And I had to bear this with the knowledge that the proceeds from my ticket sales for the visit of these temples wouldn't even reach the locals: the king of Cambodia sold the rights for Angkor Wat, Cambodia's top tourist destination, to the Vietnamese government, a neighbor and fierce rival of the Cambodians, for a period of 99 years. What a maddening world in which these people find themselves trapped. 

A land mine victim band plays traditional Cambodian music outside a temple.

Yet even when I tried to escape the sadness at the end of the day in my go-to place, a massage parlor, I was shocked to discover that the masseuse who had worked on my back for the last hour was actually a blind land mine victim! Apparently many blinded land mine victims are employed as massage therapists due to their heightened sense of touch. It's great to see that they can find work, but it made me all the more aware that in this country, there is no escaping their bloody past. On that note, I can recommend one fantastic piece of literature which helps capture the story of a family under the Khmer Rouge, First The Killed My Father by Loung Ung. If there was one souvenir I am very glad to have picked up from this country, that book is it. And reading it as I traveled through the region made the story all the more powerful.

By the time my tuk-tuk drove me to the airport on my third morning in Siem Reap, Cambodia, I was more than ready to move on to my next destination.

Recommendations: read Loung Ung's First They Killed My Father and The Lucky Child