I attended SXSW in my pajamas

Rather than wait for the Journalists, DJs and Record Companies
(ie: the "gatekeepers") to decide what I am going to listen to this year,
I decided to check it out by myself. I cannot afford to go to SXSW in
Austin and schmooze, so I brought SXSW to me.

You can easily download a torrent that includes (what is hopefully) the best
tune from each of the SXSW performers and then decide for yourself.

The advantage is that one doesn't get "influenced" as much (by the incestuous
nature of The Industry), but the bad part is that one has to sift
through some pretty awful, derivative bands (many of which,
it seems, like U2 an awful lot) and doing so takes hours if you intend to
sample every tune.

Out of 739 songs, I liked 104 well enough to save onto my iPod. I have
found some very nice stuff, and that will probably lead to me buying their
CDs.

If nothing else, it is a reminder of how much great talent there is
out there but how little of it any of us will every hear. It also
proves that quite a few people like "Counting Crows" enough to imitate their
incessant whining.

http://player.sxsw.com/torrents/SXSW_2007_Showcasing_Artists-Release_1.torrent

How Lao Cai can a man be?

For many years, Vietnam had two-tier pricing. Foreigners were charged more for train and airline tickets and there was just no getting around it. This practice was eliminated a few years ago. However, buying items in the market is a different story. Paul Thoreux, in one of his many wonderful books, cited the old Chinese saying "You can always fool a foreigner". That saying holds true for Vietnam. I am often being charged double or triple the going price simply because I don't know any better.

When I have gone shopping with my friend Tin (in Hue) or Ha (here in HCMC), they have periodically come to my defense and dressed down a merchant who was ripping me off. There are several methods of handling the problem of being overcharged, amongst them is waiting until you know the real value of the item by watching all of the other tourists get snookered first. But how do you value a piece of artwork? It has no intrinsic value, it is worth only what someone will pay for it. Is that embroidered piece worth 200,000 dong? I have no idea. Sure, I know the "standard" bargaining techniques (start at 50% and be prepared to walk away) but who amongst us knows for sure?

Besides the conundrum of buying items with no fixed price, the small merchants simply cannot help themselves from getting in the way. If a shiny bit or bob catches your eye, the next thing you know someone is pulling out everything from the display and telling you the name for it in English ("You buy bracelet?"), just in case you were from Mars and had never before seen a piece of Chinese-made costume jewelry. This ham-fisted sales technique invariably has the effect of ruining my concentration and sending me scurrying from the shop.

Because I like to shop in peace, I often find myself in modern supermarkets. Clearly-marked fixed prices, decent lighting and always low prices appeal to me. I have stocked up on spices and kitchen tools in Saigon and Hanoi and have spent hours doing so. The bar-code scanner at checkout doesn't ever try to fool a foreigner.

Travelers in SE Asia are always on their guard. We have to be, as wandering peddlers are continually thrusting all sorts of useless treasures into your face, especially when you are trying to eat your breakfast or update your journal. (The last part does not apply to me. If I were to ever update a journal, then my crappy writing would surely reflect it).

Having someone interrupt your morning coffee in hopes of shining your sandals (do Tevas even need shining?) gets old after awhile, so pardon the fuck out of me if I appear a bit cranky. I know that you are just trying to survive on less money per year than I spend on shampoo in a week, but I don't need an anodized aluminum LED flashlight right now, I need my coffee.

And just when you are starting to mistrust everyone, you are astonished to find lovely bits of kindness and courtesy where you least expect it. People running up to you to return something that you have dropped. People proudly offering you food samples. People going out of their way to help guide the dumb foreigner, expecting nothing in return and smiling in gratitude just for the opportunity to help. Just like anywhere, most people are good people.

In Sapa, I had to argue with the hotel desk clerk because upon checkout he was going to charge me 50% less than I owed. He hadn't added up the bill correctly and wanted to charge me more than $30 too little. (There is no way in hell a trained manager can stomach that sort of mistake). The owner of the cafe where I frequented wanted my opinions on his new menu. I made him raise the liquor prices for the good imported Irish whiskey. ($2.05 was far too little.)

Just like every place in the world, there are both good and bad people. In the smaller towns where few foreigners (from the land of the jumbo) dare to tread, I was constantly pestered about my size. After I calmed down, I chalked it up to hillbillies being hillbillies no matter where you are. More often than not, I found courtesy and kindness in Vietnam of a kind mostly unknown where I am from. I love Vietnam.

Tomorrow, I start the long journey back. I encourage all of you to put Vietnam on your "short list" of places to visit. I also encourage you to check out some random snapshots that I took during my stay here:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/joeehrlich/sets/72157594458315626/

Hmong and stay awhile

Up here in Sapa it is over 3,000 feet in elevation.

It's a good thing that I brought my North Face goosedown jacket with me. I have been wearing it nonstop for days now. The concept of bringing a down jacket to SE Asia is a new one on me. In most of the SE Asia, one wears shorts, a t-shirt and sandals and applys plenty of deodorant. Not up here. I am in the mountains near Mt. Fanispan, the highest peak in Vietnam.

The roads were finally dry enough yesterday for a motorcycle ride. Once again, the available rental Minsks were in such disrepair that I settled for a nearly new 100 cc Honda Wave instead. I hired the services of Ngyuh (the adorable little sister of my hotel man) to be my guide.

She has her own Honda and knows the road, I merely followed. Riding here is a "not to be missed" experience for a motorcyclist, the roads are twisty and the scenery terrific. There is the little matter of the mist and fog though. We would ride up through the fog to where I could barely see her taillight, then back down out of it again and again. All day long there were views to die for. And if I hadn't been paying attention to the road, I would have.

I am particularly interested in the crops grown 'round these parts. Not at all what you would expect. I mean there are the usual cruciferous vegetables, but also I spotted cardoons, sweet potato and the one that really blew my mind: long stemmed roses. They are grown here for the Hanoi market.

The plan was to visit a market with a specific ethnic tribe who lives near a valley a couple of mountain passes away. We stopped now and then because road construction or because an errant water buffalo was blocking our way. The distance was about 40 kilometers in the scrotum-shrivelling cold but it was a lot warmer down below in the valley. The market proved not to be all that interesting, after all. We retreated to a nearby cafe to have a bowl of duck pho and a couple glasses of green tea to warm up and then we rode back to Sapa. But not before buying some trinkets.

The hill tribe women in these parts are distinctly different in dress and language but they all share one attribute: they have many trinkets for sale. They are very persistant saleswomen. This time I ended up with a couple of hand-tooled bracelets. The day before it was some embroidered tat. The day before that it was some batiked something or other. Different tribes, different rinkets.

Back to Sapa, turn in the bike and drop in at my "local", the "Viet Emotion Cafe" to warm up. In just a few days, I have become a trusted regular. It has decent food, decent music, good coffee and a much-appreciated brick fireplace. The owner also offers free advice about the area and tours. His English is perfect. I am hooked on their breakfast omelettes that contain local sapa mushrooms. The other night I had goose sauteed with springs of local mint. Last night I had grilled wild boar with mushrooms and chili. It came on a sizzling cast iron platter, as if I had ordered fajitas. Dinner is washed down with dry red wine from Dalat.

Put Sapa on your "short list" of places to visit.

I don't like to minsk words

The train from Hanoi to Lao Cai follows the Red River up to the Chinese border. My soft sleeper was comfy and I slept through most of the clickety-clack trip.

Lao Cai has nothing much going for it, it is a dull border town with only recently built, unusually shabby buildings. The whole town was constructed in or after 1979, not for a lack of history, but because the Chinese flattened the entire town during a fit of pique. There's a lesson to be learned from this: don't piss off the Red Army.

Most everyone arriving to Lao Cai immediately climbs into a shuttle van for the last leg up to Sa Pa. The only exception would be myself, who confused and confounded all the shuttle touts by plopping my butt down on the train station steps and refusing to move until all the shuttles had departed.

I was on a mission to be an independent traveler, rent a Minsk motorbike and travel around the back roads sharing solidarity and gathering insights with the colorful local hill tribes and to be "one with the people". (A Minsk is a Belarussian, 175 cc, 2-stroke workhorse of a machine. This would be sorta like turning up at Hertz and asking to rent a Studebaker.)

Finding a Minsk was no problem. I was offered one for $7.00 a day from the local pho cafe and Minsk rental emporium. Within minutes, a gentlemen turned up with a Minsk for my approval. The sad old bike was knackered even beyond my standards, so I had him adjust the front brake before I would take it for a spin around the car park. The bike ran OK, but the other issue was the weather: Lao Cai is fairly high up and the weather closely resembled Scotland's worst. I decided that it was far too slippy and slidey for me to risk riding on unfamiliar roads sans helmet and common sense. I declined the rental.

Turning from proud traveler into an impotent tourist, I tagged along on a day tour to visit a Sunday market where the "Flower Hmong" congregate. Even though I lost my traveler stripes, I had a blast, took heaps of photos and amused the Hmong with my girth.

After the tour, I hitched a ride up to Sa Pa (elevation 1600 metres) where it is very cold, very damp and completely fogged in. No matter, as the Pinochio (sic) Hotel, is looking after me very well for $8.00 a night. My balcony suite has a wonderful view of the mountains, or is supposed to anyway, for I cannot see more than 50 metres.

Air travel can be very hannoying

I have been staying in Ho Chi Minh City with my friends Jason and Ha. They live in a very nice gated community designed and built for expats. It even has a pool.

Anyway, I got a lot of errands done in HCMC thanks to my pal Ha.

She found me a tailor to make up some of my signature shirts, found an optician to grind some new lenses for me to read with, found someone to repair and sew buttons on some of my tattered clothes, coached me on my pronunciation and bargained for things on my behalf. Ha loves having something to do, I don't think that a 'life of leisure' suits her very well. (On the other hand, I could use a life of leisure suits, but only if I had shoes to match.) She is also trying to play "matchmaker" for me, but that is another story for another time.

Jason is pretty self-reliant and is a man of few words. He is also at work all day. With me around she had someone to fuss over and chat endlessly with. She is also scary smart: Jason is a very lucky man.

It was time to move on, and I took a taxi to the airport for a flight up to Hanoi. The Saigon airport is normal, modern and efficient. Now if only Vietnamese passengers had a clue about the concept of air travel. "Really people, there is no need to push and shove, this is not the city bus!"

The Vietnam Airways plane was a new Boeing 777-200 piloted by a Russian pilot named Vladimir who has a big mustache. Lunch was your choice of pan-friend noodles with pork or an assortment of dim sum. I chose the dim sum. I have said this before but must say it again: Vietnam Airways is one of the best airlines in the world and I highly recommend that you choose them for your next flight to Danang or Hue.

Upon arrival, I grabbed my bag (13.5 kilos, just in case you are keeping track) and headed out to the taxi rank. The first metered taxi had no actual meter and once I realized this I threw a hissy fit. The driver was offering a flat rate of $10.00 into the city, but feeling that I was being scammed, I demanded to be let out. Into another taxi, this time with an actual meter.

I should have stayed put. The metered fare ended up costing a couple of dollars more than the flat rate would have been. Really: sometimes I can be such a schmuck.

My tiny, grimy, cheap-ass hotel room wasn't ready, which gave me plenty of time to be overcharged for a train ticket up to Lao Cai. I gladly overpaid as I was still smarting from being a schmuck.

Morning came early for me, mostly from jetlag, but also thanks to the People's Loudspeakers playing wake-up music and reading news and announcements. I do not speak a lot of Vietnamese, but am certain that the announcer mentioned something about "arresting all fat foreigners who wear loud shirts".

What's a pho man supposed to do?

Just trying to think straight after a 22 hour flight and having my time zones turned completely upside down.

I have already been here for three nights and haven't had any actual Vietnamese food at all.

What's a pho man supposed to do?

Now, the first night doesn't even count, as I arrived past midnight. The second night we went out for yakitori and sushi. Last night it was Indian food.

To maintain my no Vietnamese food streak, yesterday I searched out dim sum for lunch. Not so easy to find. This is Saigon, not Hong Kong.

First, I looked in the phone book Yellow Pages. They had listings for dog meat restaurants and KFC, but there were no listings for Chinese restaurants.

The solution was to take a taxi into Chinatown and then bother Chinese-looking strangers until we were pointed in the right direction. It helped that I had my pal Ha Trang along. Ha had nothing better to do than to help me find steamed pork dumplings.

We eventually found just the right place hidden away on the fourth floor in a down-on-its-heels mall. Once inside, it looked like any typical banquet restaurant that you might find in Oakland Chinatown.

I ordered enough dim sum for four, each dish costing slightly over $1.00 They paced the arrival of the dishes, but I snapped a photo of the first round. This shot could have been taken anywhere, so you will just have to trust me that the above photo is what the first part of our meal looked like.

I will be sure to let you know when I have an actual adventure.

Preparing to leap

Only a few days to go before this year's trip. Not surprisingly, I am stressing. You would think that I would have figured out this "pre-travel preparation" thing by now, but I haven't.

Got the passport last week, the Vietnam visa today. Tix are in order. Bills are sorta paid. I may want to pack shortly. Then again, why take care of it in advance? Let's wait until the "day of" to pack.