I’m not particularly great at writing movie reviews, so this will be short. But I do think I know what constitutes a good movie (for me at least) and it goes something like this in order of importance. Script (Dialogue), Acting, Cinematography, Soundtrack, Plot. There are probably other, but I’m cooking pancakes right (tasty) now and my attention is distracted.

In the order I watched them:

Sin Nombre (Translated: Without Name) (Mexican)

This was is a Spanish language film that tells the tale of a young man who is a member of the infamous Mara Salvatrucha gang (more commonly known as MS-13). He ends up at one point deciding to leave the gang life behind and head from Honduras on a train north through Mexico towards the USA. Many other things occur during the movie which would be dumb of me to mention here because it would ruin a lot of it. But what I though was really good were a coupe of things. First, the cinematography in the movie is pretty good. But what was even more interesting was how the gang life was depicted. According to IMDB the director used some of the actual gang members of MS-13 as well as immigrants riding on top of the trains. The story line is good- but remember foreign directors don’t like to sugar coat things, but rather portray a reality that goes unseen. Thus it is raw, which is what I like.

Gomorrah (Italian)

If you like mafia flicks than this one is for you. The film follows the lives of 5 different characters- a Haute Couture tailor, a money handling middle-man, a young boy, and two young friends who like to operate themselves. The film deals with the an Italian crime syndicate (mafia) known as the Cammora. (The movie is based on a book, so actual events may have not actually happened, but similar events and ties are real). It follows the five main characters and how the local mafia affects and endangers their everyday lives. Hits, dirty business, payoffs, racketeering, etc. It’s all included. My description isn’t exactly fantastic, but this movie was “presented” by Martin Scorsese, and he knows mob movies. I will say however, that is pretty beyond what he does. The cinematography is out of this world in my opinion and the story line is really good. But again, this is a no frills kind of movie- if you’re in to straight up Italian mafia stuff, then this is for you. If you’re looking for an action packed mob thriller- then this probably isn’t for you.

Welcome (French)

This movie takes place in a city on shore of the English channel in France. It deals in large part with immigrants again, mostly those who come out of the mid-east, Iraq, Afghanistan, or Turkey. They have made their way across parts of Europe but what stands between them is the English channel. Similar to what happens on the US border, immigrants try to make their way through by hiding on trucks before boarding the ferries that go across. The main character, a teenage boy trying to making to London to reunite with his girlfriend (who is set to marry her older (like 50) cousin) is unable to go in the trucks for reasons you find out in the film. He then starts to pay for swimming lesson to learn how to become a better swimmer so he can, you guessed it, swim across the channel. But this isn’t some sort karate kid movie where the kid sucks and trainer says there’s no hope, then we get a sweet music/workout montage as he improves. No, this movie is French. That will not happen. But it focuses instead on an immigration problem in Europe (its not only the US) as well as the hope (and hopelessness) of the characters. The cinematography is good (though not as good as Gomorrah) but the script is just awesome in my opinion. This is not your typical boy tries to get back to his girlfriends movie….it doesn’t play out like that kind of movie, but instead focuses on larger issues as well as the character at the same time. It’s excellent.

Obviously, I recommend all three of these movie. My favorite being the last one Welcome. If anyone has seen these or has any thoughts on them, leave a comment and let me know. I’d love to hear what people think. Or if you have any other lesser known foreign flicks to recommend.

Thus the Waterm’allen Challenge (watermelon being pronouced “waterm’allen” for rhyming reason.) Similar to the famous gallon challenge where one must finish a gallon of milk in one hour without vomiting. Paige, along with volunteers Chris and Carly (there is no reason someone should ever volunteer for this) had to eat one whole watermelon EACH within an hour. And of course, no barfing.

This is not as easy as you think. The average watermelon has 1,200 calories. And think about chugging tons and tons of water.

The 1 hour footage has been sped up to a mere 3:41 seconds. Just enough time to rock out to some Daft Punk. Also you get some cool watermelon facts VH1 pop-up video style. And I won’t lie, I completely enjoyed capturing their misery on tape.

If you didn’t notice, it is no longer called “Nick’s Adventure Blog” because while life is an adventure in and of itself, the title seemed too limiting. Now I can post things that don’t always pertain to traveling, but to ideas and interests in general. I also hope to start to do some tutorial stuff for any of you out there enjoy photography or that type of thing. Some tips and tricks type of stuff. You’ll also probably get to follow along as I search for permanent employment. If you didn’t notice this website serves as a portfolio as well, for possible employers or freelance employment. Both good.

I also must point out that all of old posts are not quite uploaded yet- and that most of the photographs I took in Asia are missing from the posts. In time my friends they will be reinstated- mostly because no one read my posts anyway and just looked at the pictures (yeah I get it, pictures are more interesting).

I’m hoping that this enthusiasm I have to actually start writing in this blog again doesn’t wane, but we shall see. Of course, when I receive comments back it helps me realize people read it and encourages me to do more- out of guilt if nothing else.

‘Nuff said for now, I hope that future posts won’t be quite so dull. But hey- it’s MY website! So back off.

Much of the delay was due to good old fashioned procrastination. But there was also a 3 month period where my external hard drive crashed and I thought I lost all 50gb (or 9,000 photos) I’ve taken over the past 4 or so years. Luckily, I got them back and so its time to rock.

The last part of my time in SE Asia was spent in Indonesia, on the islands of Bali and Lombok specifically. I ended up deciding to go there initially for about 2 weeks then head to Malaysia. I ended up staying in Indonesia (i.e. spending lots of money skipping and canceling flights) because I liked it so much there… and met this really cool Balinese girl, Yurin. And it would be a lie if I said she wasn’t the cause of me making a return trip for  another three weeks. Oh la la, you may be thinking. Fine.

I don’t want to chronicle the trip day by day because that would bore you to death, and I’ve been told I write a lot. The only things people actually like about my blog are the pictures. Also, its probably so far past the fact to bother telling you about the end of my time in Asia. However if I had to mention the highlights  it would go like this: a painful witch-doctor massage, stolen camera, stolen iPod touch, police, motorbikes, coagulated cow blood, a villa, bucket showers, Faybans, beaches, and $5 (yes, FIVE) hour long (non-painful) oil massages.

Just so you know what I’m up to right now, I’m currently a videographer at summer camp right now in rural Pennsylvania (although actually working for TILT Studio Inc.) Its a pretty awesome job where I get to be outside a lot, then I make videos which are used mostly as promotional and marketing material. And you can check some of the videos here on vimeo starting with the “Bowling Balls” one. This job only lasts through the end of July. So I’m currently looking for more permanent employment (spread the word)!

Lastly, I just imported all the posts from my old New Zealand blogger blog “There and Back Again.” So now you can go back and relive all those exciting memories! Or just ignore them, whichever. I just figured I ought to consolidate them into one place, since it is called Nick’s Adventure Blog, more adventures (old or new) can never hurt. However, the formatting after importing was a little messed up, so I’ll be adding them a few at a time as I fix them. Since they are the oldest, they will be toward the end of the blog when clicking through.

If you can remember when the last semester ended I tried to sum up some of the lessons I learned in a list of bullet points- some I took to heart, other mistakes I’m sure I repeated. But instead of making a list again (way to much pressure to think of good and witty things) I figure I’ll just type out some of my overall thought and feelings about the life as a teacher. Mostly ramblings.

Teaching is not easy. Teaching English is even harder (than some things- keep your pants on for any teachers/professors out there). I learned quickly that in order to teach English, all of those things I was taught in the 3rd grade (subjects, objects, continuous verbs, blah blah blah…) I had to remember. I think in my time teaching I’ve learned more about English grammar than possibly my students have. I thought I considered myself a grammar Nazi before,even belonging to silly Facebook groups like “I judge you when you use poor grammar,” but now I don’t even know what to call myself. A grammar super Nazi? Although, you probly wuldn’t gues it sinsce I rarly profread my bloggs pots.

Either way, its easy to take knowing English for granted by growing up with it, because it is so ridiculously confusing that I am in awe on how well some of my students can grasp it. And no matter what you feelings are on globalization, cultural diffusion, or what have you, the truth I’ve learned here is that knowing English can be serious advantage for success in life (depending how you measure that of course).

If you are wondering at all if I can speak Thai now, after living here for a 9 months, the answer is a sad “not really.” I know a handful of phrases, how to count, directions for a taxi driver, etc…. but I probably should have tried a little harder to learn it, it’s actually a pretty simple language believe it of not (to speak that is, writing/reading is a different story).

My second semester seemed to be much better than the first for the most part. Of course it is always hard to get students to speak and participate in class. Many of my students assure me that this is the case in all classes, not just English- and no matter how much I assure them that its OK to speak, they just must not believe me. However, I felt far more comfortable from the first day of the second semester compared to the first. Before I ever started teaching all I heard were horror stories of students taking advantage of the teacher and causing all sorts of trouble. After teaching a bit, I realized most of these stories rarely happen. Although the girls still think if I allow one to go to the bathroom it’s “OK” to have a mass exodus of all the girls at the same time. After learning all the little things from the first semester I realized I could be myself while still maintaining control of the classroom (I still enjoyed having my more “social” students singing for the class and I from time to time).

But for now, I’m finished teaching and of to search for other pastures. While teaching isn’t exactly in my near future plans (like I actually have any), I have to admit that one day I may come back around to it. I think its the interaction and satisfaction you get when at least one students gets what you’re talking about (cliché I know, get over it). However, I don’t think I’ll ever desire to teach English as a second language again, as much fun as it was, the material isn’t exactly thrilling (mind you I’m not talking about English Literature). No, I think I’d have to teach something I get excited about and is constantly shifting, like photography, design, or communications stuff in general. So maybe one day after I make it huge I’ll go to some swanky private university or school and say “Hey, I kind of a big deal now. I want a job……with health care.”

Speaking of healthcare, I get it for free here from the government. I went to the hospital a week ago and didn’t pay a thing (free is more like for $25 a month out of my paycheck). Sadly, while I look for a permanent job once I get back I figure I’ll be living on the edge for a awhile with out it. That should be exciting. I have a partial job lined up for this summer when I return, taking video and photos at a summer camp, but I pretty much have no permanent plans after that. So keep your eyes out for anyone who needs a photographer/designer/public relations/advertising/communications goofball. I pay a generous finders fee in the form of fine, custom bedazzled t-shirts and Wendy’s junior bacon cheeseburgers.

That is all for now, I’m leaving for Bali in less than 12 hours, and  I will hang out there for about 2 weeks and attempt to surf. I did it once in New Zealand and I think there was promise. After that I’m headed northwest to Malaysia, where I will go to the Cameron Highlands and check out Kula Lumpur for about a week. And then back to Bangkok of course. Not that I’m particularly good about updating this blog, but you won’t hear from me until then. I promise to bring back good photographs and stories, one which will probably involve me being dragged by my surfboard across the ocean floor. However, I’ll probably be able to update my twitter account via my iPod, so you can check in there while I’m away.

Below are the photographs of all my lovely (and crazy) students with their debonair teacher. I also realized I never showed anyone where I worked this semester, so I’ve included some photographs of the campus. My 45 minute daily commute by bus wasn’t exactly fun, but it’s pretty ridiculous to tell you the truth, with rumors saying it was partially funded by the Vatican. While I’m 99% sure that’s not true (who knows)- I think it’s actually funded by the bazillions of students they admit even when admission deadlines are finished, a cool 42,000 baht a year ($1,200 USD).  Anyway, I’m off. See you in 3 weeks.

The rest of the pictures are from the nearby water/amusement park (which I am a year long member of for the bargain price of $30 USD) and a festival in downtown Bangkok back in November(?). Read the photo captions for more info on each photograph. The semester finishes in about 3 weeks, so things are picking up here, which is why I haven’t blogged very recently (plus the addition of nasty cold, lack of adventures, and general laziness) so maybe after that.

I’m only here about another 3 months. Its strange because when I think about all the things I’ve missed- Christmas, family gatherings, alumni events, etc. it feels like its been forever. And then when I don’t think about those times I missed (which is sometimes necessary in order to stay sane) it feels like I’ve barely been here even though its far longer than the majority of Americans could say. The end is slowly creeping near- I both look forward to it and fear it at the same time.

Ok, here we go.

We were in Saigon, went to the beach about 6 hours east of Saigon. Stayed in a bungalow near the beach. There were a lot of mosquitoes, they bite. Then we went back to Saigon, got off the bus, walked across the street, bought a new ticket and got on a bus to Phnom Penh 10 minutes later.

Got to Pnhom Penh and on the second day there went the Killing Fields where hundreds of thousands were executed under the Khmer Rouge. There is a big memorial there filled with skulls of some of the victims filled to the top. You can also see pieces of clothing partially dug into the paths that we walked on around the mass graves. It was very unnerving.

We then went to Security Prison 21, more commonly referred to as S-21, which was a school converted into prison under the same regime ran by Pol Pot. Not exactly a day of happy tourist spots that make you feel all warm and fuzzy inside (they have those spots too, but its a different kind of happy, and it involves pizza), but important to experience first hand nonetheless. If you don’t know much about Pol Pot and the Khmer Rouge, then you should wikipedia it, its very sad. And quite frankly it only happened 30 or so years ago while the world stood by and watched. Made me think about how long it will takes us to do something real about Darfur and other places like that. Additionally, I though of how different the country would be today if it wasn’t missing a whole generation of educated people. Perhaps one of the sadist things was that the guards who worked at the prison were just as scared of Pol Pot as the regular population. There was really no choice for anyone except obedience or death.

Next day we left for Siem Reap to check out Ankgor Wat, which is a giant area of ancient hindu temples (although most Cambodians are Buddhist now, or would at least describe themselves as that). The whole park, which costs $25 or so to get into for a day, is massive and require you to hire a tuk-tuk driver for the day to take you around because they are spread out over many many kilometers.. We paid ours $20 or something. The temples were very awesome, but I’ll just let all the picture tell you about them.

The next day, we checked out of our hotel and took a bus back to Bangkok, which include a land border crossing which was quite lengthy. We arrived back in Bangkok with little trouble however and were glad to be home.

The End. Enjoy the many (oh so many) photographs. I’ll be back with more current happenings from now on. I’m traveling to Laos later this week, so I should have stories from there when I return. And don’t forget I have a twitter feed now at the bottom of the website, so you can check that out for more current updates, or follow me if you have an account (I’ll follow you too! (unless you are a spammer trying to sell me nudy pics.))

After returning from Halong Bay we stayed one last night/day in Hanoi. It was sad to leave our home away from home away from home, but it was time to move on. We booked a relatively cheap evening flight to Saigon after ditching the whole train/bus idea of traveling south for a few days and stopping off on the way. We had plans to make it to Cambodia on our way back to Bangkok, at time would have never permitted it if we stayed on the ground. So after stocking up on cheap DVD television series and making our last wander around the streets of Hanoi we jumped in the private car we hired to take us to the airport and boarded the flight. I got an enormous emergency exit row seat which rocked in a world of cramped cars/busses/vans/planes built for short Asians.

We touched down in Saigon, got fleeced by a taxi driver ( we are usually far more worldly than to let this happen (i.e. lived in a Asia long enough)), and found ourselves a pretty nice guesthouse recommended by none other than Lonely Planet.

The next day we explored Saigon by going to a market and walking around a good bit.We had to go to the Cambodian embassy to get our visas, so that is actually where most of the walking came from. Saigon, officially Ho Chi Minh City, seemed like a pretty nice city actually, and in some regards more organize than Hanoi (although the same number of motorbikes). You may be wondering why they changed the city’s name. Well that’s because they wanted to honor Ho Chi Minh. However, with the exception of official documents etc., everyone still calls is Saigon. So to sound like a pretension worldly traveler (as I mentioned before), I do the same as the locals and call it Saigon.

We picked up our visas with little to no problem, I think it cost us something like $30 bucks or something, plus another $5 to get it done in 15 minutes (rather than 1 day).  Its all good though, tourism is practically (and almost literally) Cambodia’s only source of income. I do think they should fill up the swimming pool as the embassy however, I wouldn’t have minded a little dip while we waited for our visas.

The next day we took a trip north to the Cu Chi Tunnels. (Click the link to get a history and some pictures) In a nut shell they are the Viet-Cong’s tunnel systems that existed about 40km north of Saigon. You may have read about these terrifying tunnels in Vietnam War novels where the soldiers must draw straws to see who has to climb in. Well I can say that the tunnels are pretty freaky and not for anyone who is slightly claustrophobic. There’s some good pictures of Timm, Ed, and Cory getting into the hole where one of the tunnel’s trap doors were- its a tight squeeze. As thwo Australian girls entered it with a squeeze they said “It’s a good thing we’re not Americans.” The Cory said “Hey, we’re Americans.” Then The Vietnam War II broke out, and all hell ensued with fists flying and mouths cursing…..OK, that part didn’t happen, but they did say that, and Cory did say that back to them. That’s all. Good Story. Moving On.

At 6’1″ it hurt pretty bad to eek my way through the tunnels, especially the pitch black ones where I could not see where I was going. It’s not like there’s a light at the end of these 1.5×1 meter tunnels that will guide you to safety- they twist, snake, and curve with no end in sight. And while I’m slightly ashamed to admit it, we told our guide we had enough before we even got to the part where you had to crawl on your stomach (they have exits about every 30 yards for the wimps). And at the risk of sounding like I’m making excuses, it was pretty painful for someone my size to crouch and try to keep up with our guide who was practically running. Guide: “OK, ready? We Go” Me: “NOOOOOOOOOO make it stop!” Guide: “OK good, we go.” Me: “I want my mommy!”

The tunnels (along with the crazy spikey jungle death traps) did however give me a weird appreciation for how Viet-Cong fought the Americans. They even recycled by taking the explosive material from dud bombs we dropped, putting it in empty soda cans American G.I.s left lying around, and turned them into booby traps. At the same time it gave me a great appreciation for American soldier who had to fight in these jungles, it was eerie enough walking around there on dirt paths, the area sweeped of booby traps and land mines. I can’t even fathom (nor really want to) what it would have been like for them.

The next day we hopped yet another bus to the beach for a few days, then back to Saigon, on to Phnom Penh, Cambodia. That’s where we will pick up for the final chapter. Till then my friends. Till then.

Oh yeah, that Vietnam thing. Fine, I guess we can talk about that too.

So when we last left off we were returning from the mountainous region of Sapa back to Hanoi. We had some other teacher friends traveling to Vietnam over the break who departed from Bangkok a few days later than us. It just so happened that when we were returning from our Sapa trip that they would be in Hanoi. As you might have guess we met up with them to drink some Bia Hoi (this delicious beverage is brewed daily and sold out of kegs on the street for about 18 cents U.S.). We thought it would be fun if we went to Halong Bay together before we parted ways. And so we all booked a boat trip on Halong Bay, which was actually one night on a Junk (boat) and a night on an small island resort (which was all inclusive, except for the booze). This ran us about $85 USD, although it sounds much pimper to say 1.5 million dong.

Halong Bay is a UNESCO World Heritage site (on natural grounds I believe) and located about 3 1/2 hours east of Hanoi. We arrived in Halong City and took a small dingy to our boat. There were about 8 of us teachers in our group, two Brits, and a Scot. Oh yes, and who could forget the Canadian (Blaaaaaahh! Sorry, I think I just threw up a little in my mouth. You never really know why you make fun of Canadians… until you actually meet one, then it ‘just feels right’ (and well deserved(I hope no Canadians read this blog, if there are, please don’t beat me up. I’m fragile.))).

When we got on the boat we set sail and headed out in to the bay. The bay has hundreds of tiny lush green and limestone islands that jut out of the water. Unfortunately, the first day you couldn’t see much more than their silhouettes because of low lying fog. It gave off the vibe of the very first seen of the Pirates of the Caribbean movie where they are slowly making the way through the fog. It was a sort of eerie feeling that set me humming ‘Yo ho, yo ho, a pirates life for me.’ (I’ve actually been on the original PotC ride in Disneyland. Unfortunately, there were no fat ladies chasing men around in continuous circles or drunkards balancing on top a stack of beer kegs here. Pity.)

We got to kayak a little during which Timm (who was with Ed) flipped their kayak. Said flipping led to Timm releasing his paddle from his hand. And as it turns out paddles in Vietnam don’t float- probably because they’re made out of steel poles that aren’t water tight. That cost Timm a cool $20. Not really a good story I realized, but this my blog so I can do whatever I want (like say booger). We also checked out a nifty cave that I walked through barefoot because when I asked our guide ‘Do we need shoes?’ she said no (note to self: shoes doesn’t translate into ‘footwear in general’ ie. sandals, flippie floppies, crocs).

After enjoying a delicious seafood dinner, a few of us went down to our room to watch part of the fine classic film Judge Dread staring the Oscar Nomm….Nickelodeon Kids Choice Award nominated Sylvester Stallone! (Why would you watch a movie on vacation? Ermm, because its vacation and much like this blog, I am the law! (Sorry I stole that idea from you Ed. (Inside jokes/comments on blogs are stupid. (Just like that one time in Vegas, right guys?)))).

I’ve never been to Vegas.

One thing that sucked about being on vacation however was being unable to sleep in. We were roused early as usual and after a nice breakfast taken to Cat Ba, one of the biggest islands off the coast of ‘Nam. We went for a nice little bicycle ride and checked out a cool hospital built into a big hill during the Vietnam-American War when we were bombing the bejeezums out of them. Yeah it might get a little boring never getting to really see the light of day and being stuck in a cave, but its probably a lot better than getting hit by a giant bomb. Oh yeah, we lost that war. Jokes aside, this was just the beginning of us really realizing how smart the Vietcong were, which I will talk about more when I talk about the tunnels outside of Saigon in Act III.

After that we were shuttled to another boat docking area and were taken to “Monkey Island” by motorboat, where we would stay for the night. Timm and I shared a quaint little bungalow set back just 10 meters or so from the beach, and it provided an appropriate setting for our pirate based Dungeon and Draaa… nevermind.

“So were there monkeys?” By golly you bet there were some monkeys, although we had to first hike up a hillside and back down to the other side of the island. I however kept my distance. I was walking toward the “monkey area” and heard a blood curdling scream. Then I saw about 8 people fleeing from the trees back onto the beach. Our friend Amy had been bitten by one of these furry primates. No these were not cuddly little monkeys that you hold in you arms, they were vicious and protective monkeys that would rather eat your arms. (I posted a while back a post about some temple monkeys who were far nicer than these monkeys.) A young Thai that was there said he was ambushed by about 8 of them when he walked into his kitchen one time. He had the scars to prove it- and a big stick that he never walks around without now, in case there is a need for some monkey bashing.

Another delicious meal and another laid back evening with a few drinks we went to bed somewhat early. We had yet another early morning in store. The next day was quite really uneventful and mostly consisted of a long cruise back to Halong City through the bay. There weather was much clearer this time than the first day, which was nice, and provided some better photo opportunities. The day ended with a van ride back to Hanoi. (I know its not the most exciting ending to a story.) So we’ll pick up from there when I get to Act III.

One of my closest friends from home is visiting me for a couple of weeks (something you should think about doing!) and he is getting in tonight. So it’s hard to say how much blogging I’ll get to do, although I have some time between my classes somedays, so maybe I’ll write then. But as a gift to you right now (no its not virtual boogers) I will leave you with a cover I recorded of the beloved classic, Linger, by The Cranberries.

Ps. If I’ve offended anyone with my low level of maturity in this post, then I’m sorry. (But it’s an “I’m sorry you read this,” rather than a “I’m sorry I wrote this.”)

We departed Bangkok on Sunday evening October 4th and arrived in Hanoi about 2 hours later. We found ourselves a hotel for $6 dollars each in an area called the Old Quarter.  Now for those of you not so keen on your Vietnam history before the American War (as it’s called in Vietnam), the country used to be occupied by the French before Uncle Ho (Ho Chi Minh) ran them out of town. So naturally there is a lot of French influence in the architecture and cuisine in both Hanoi and Saigon. Thin and tall buildings, cafes, and freshly baked baguettes. All of this was a refreshing change because the city had an identity, whereas Bangkok is a mish-mash of buildings and streets.

Hanoi was still extremely busy though, and while I thought Bangkok’s drivers were bad, Hanoi’s are terrible. Motos (motorbikes) out number cars and street lights are either ignored or non-existent. Crossing the street is terrifying and you’ll be just as lucky to get across with your eyes closed than if they were open- and that’s no exaggeration. We found the trick was to just go for it and keep a steady pace, so the motos could calculate their plan of avoidance- I’m pretty sure I still almost got nailed no less than 5 times. Additionally, the sidewalks are blocked by all of the parked motos, so the street is your only option. Pedestrians live in constant fear of being instantly pulverized.

After chilling out in Hanoi for a day we set up a trip through our hotel to go north to Sapa, which is a small town in the mountains close to the Chinese border. In just the past ten years or so it has seen an explosion in tourism because of its magnificent landscape and ethnic diversity. Many different ethnic groups live in the area by growing rice on the mountain sides. Many of them would sooner consider their nationality to be that of their ethnic group rather than being considered Vietnamese. However, there is certainly no resentment toward the Vietnamese, as they have been part of the land for hundreds of years. While the children are required to attend school, many of the parents don’t know how to speak Vietnamese because they never attended school in the first place and are so isolated that each ethnic group has their own language. A neighboring village only 1km away may be of a different ethnic group, so while the two villages may be friends, they often can’t verbally communicate with each other. Get all that?

We took a swanky overnight sleeping train whose A/C was wackier than Willy Wonka. At one point it got so cold in our cabin I could see my breath, while later it became unbearably hot- and we had no control over it. It wasn’t the best night of sleep. The second day in Sapa we set off on a a two day trek through the mountains with our guide, Linh, who was part of the Hmong people. Apparently this is the same ethnic group featured in the movie Gran Torino with Clint Eastwood, I’ve never seen it, but I do know the Hmong people are all over the world, about 5 million in total, mostly in China and Vietnam. We disembarked on our trek with about 10 other tribes people, all women, who walked with us and made us cool little animals out of pieces of straw, clearly something learned through a lot of down time walking to and from their village. They were all very curios and kind, and most could speak very good English because of all of the tourists that come around.

After getting to the bottom of the valley, I found many of these people and children who had won my heart over with their cute straw animals all began to ask me to buy a bag, bracelet, hat, or headband of some sort from them. Oh they are good! How is a person able to deny commitment like that? “Oh ya know, just heading back to my village, thought I’d tag along with you funny looking white folk for the walk. Where do you come from? What’s your name? How old are you? Oh, interesting. I’m a little bored, let me make you these adorable plant animals. Look a deer! Look a caterpillar! Look a flower! No worries, just some friendly gifts from me to you. Would you look at that, it seems as if we have arrived at the village! YOU WANT TO BUY A BAG? YOU WANT HEADBAND? YOU WANT BRACELET? BUY FROM ME! BUY FROM ME! BUY BUY BUY! ONLY 100,000 DONG! I GIVE YOU SPECIAL PRICE, 80,000 DONG! WHY YOU BUY FROM HER NOT FROM ME! YOU BUY FORM HER AND NOT FROM ME! YOU LIKE HER MORE, YOU DON’T LIKE ME! LATER YOU BUY FROM ME OK!”

Sorry, I got a little carried away on that rant but that is exactly what its like. And they drive hard bargains, which are really never bargains until you begin to walk away and they cave in. That’s if you can walk away. I got surrounded on a bridge and had no easy escape unless I plowed people over. It’s a good thing my mother taught me to be polite, because that all you can really do is keep saying “No, thank you” and “Sorry, don’t want.” I escaped the bridge ambush eventually and took haven in the little restaurant for lunch while the sellers waited patiently by the door. One women after lunch insisted that I had promised to buy something from her when we first left Sapa at the top of the valley (I didn’t of course). She wouldn’t leave me alone after I insisted that I never said such a thing. “YOU PROMISE YOU BUY FROM ME! YOU PROMISE ME AT TOP OF HILL! I REMEMBER, YOU SAY YOU GERMAN!” I think you’ve got the wrong guy lady. Good hunting!

I may have neglected to mention that this was a two-day trek in which we would stay at one of the houses in the village for the night. So as we continued to make our way to that destination after lunch we continued to pass adorable children, a school, more sellers, and plenty of wildlife- buffalo, chickens, and pigs. We arrived at our house in the early afternoon and relaxed around the place, meeting three other (older) travelers and their guides- two Australians and one Japanese. We got to know each other as we played pool and sat around eating garlic fries. Yes it’s true, we weren’t exactly roughing it at all like we thought. The home seemed to be equipped and ready to take on the most needy of westerners- hot shower, flushing toilet, and a pool table. Granted, the families don’t mind since its extra income for the family which would otherwise have none, and they were more than happy to have us.

After a gigantic dinner consisting of beef, pork, chicken, vegetable, tofu (yuck!) and rice of course, we continued to drink what is known as Rice Wine, or as or guide began to call it, Magic Water. Both of which are misnomers because the taste certainly doesn’t resemble any wine I’ve ever had. And it didn’t give me any magical powers either- doing quite the opposite in fact. No, what we were drinking is better known as rice whiskey. Distilled and made by the farmers themselves, it is the drink of choice for the Hmong people with many traditions associated. Essentially its moonshine that is distilled into a 15 gallon jug, then siphoned off into empty water bottles for easy pouring and consumption. And consumed it was.  A somewhat acquired taste, the first shot goes down pretty hard, and gets exponentially easier as they come, for obvious reasons I imagine. It was a fun night with a lot of excitement, but I won’t go into details because I don’t want to bore you (also they are a little hazy).

After a solid night’s sleep, which was aided by our Magic Water, we woke early to have crepes and bananas for breakfast. We headed out on the last leg of our trek walking along the sides of the rice paddies with the valley below. It was another beautiful day although a little hazy like the day before. We slowly wound down the mountain, stopping along the way for our guide Linh to show us some games, villages, and how to shoot a slingshot (we know how, but she did it a lot better). The trek ended with soup fo lunch, some more heckling from the sellers, and a bus back to Sapa. That’s right, we didn’t even have walk back up the valley. As Americans, we were way too lazy for that. It was also about 20km.

Enjoy the photographs as usual. Sorry for any typos, I’m a bit lazy when it comes to proofreading my personal blog. Act II will come in the following few days with any luck.