settling in

4 months down, 3 months to go, and finally unpacking. after staying at a half dozen cheap guest houses and a couple of temp apartments, im finally ready to pick up my backpack full of 19 kilos worth of stuff i obviously didnt need. its been in storage since feb 1 when i went to australia, and took just what i could fit in a backpack that so diminutive, it would not fit my laptop. naturally, ive purchased a ton of shit along the way, many times opting to simply rush into a store and snag a new outfit appropriate for school rather than try to rush all the way home.

i really liked the last place i was at, staying with Hai, a young asian bisexual dude, Simon, a french guy in the rice trading business and his viet girlfriend My. it was well situated, right over a short bridge from downtown, walkable if you didnt feel like spending the buck for a taxi, which isnt very much, but trying to communicate where you are trying to go is sometimes so taxing, its just easier to go on foot. but the timing is about right. what was a charming little neighborhood when we moved in just weeks before, situated round a tiny triangle of green space where streets converge in something other than a 90 degree angle. the vietnamese are pretty crafty at building tall slender towers, and have no trouble putting a multi story apartment complex on a parcel no bigger than a postage stamp, despite the fact that neighboring buildings are all just a couple of stories. in light of this, its surprising to see any open space, since there is not a parcel small enough to be unused.

while this nook was spared from construction, the crews descended upon our neigb in a big way. within a few days, two of the neighboring buildings got demo'ed. forget about one of the great benefits of this early semi-retirement plan ive signed up for, namely, waking up when your body is good and ready. crews start loud banging around 6 am, and only the aged who have lost their hearing are spared. using the hard labor of workers recruited from the countryside, who are equipped with the most basic tools, constructing with ladders fashioned from bamboo and rope, constructing their own man made scaffolding from bits of discarded materials, fashioning rebar by hand into the shapes they need to build forms which are only roughly symmetrical.

in contrast, my new place is in a far busier area, with no more charm than say 8th avenue in the 30's. but, the little alley i live on which is only wide enough for a single motorbike to pass has no traffic, is perfectly peaceful, and provided the first good nights sleep since sledgehammers slammed against brick some weeks back.

after a shower, i venture out on foot on the first night to see what kind of food options await me. i am riding a bicycle these days, but i opt to go on foot to see whats near. not far from my door is a brightly lit fresh juice and smoothy cart, where avocado shakes look tasty. heading further down the main street, i approach a well lit corner, that has several food stalls clustered all together with the usual offerings: sandwiches, seashells of all varieties, all dishes a buck or so. but i opt instead for the well lit and very tidy 24 hour pho 5 sao, regular wisdom would suggest that i stick with the noodle soup, since this is what they are obviously best at. but the dennys style menu offers page after page of other options. pizza, spaghetti, all with pix that look reasonable good. meal deals couple many popular dishes with a large cup of pepsi and some weird looking desserts. i opt for lasagna, something i havent had since the last meal in an american diner. it comes with 4 slices of toasted white bread. burgers are also offered, tho they are referred to as hambogo. perhaps next visit.

on aging

teaching my students the different stages of life, i asked them what they thought middle-aged might be. with a little coaxing, the began to grasp the idea that this is somewhere around the halfway point. but when asked to show where this fell on a timeline i'd drawn on the blackboard, they put a mark around 30. first, i thought this was a misunderstanding, or possibly the concepts students often have of their teachers being ancient. did you used to go to work by dinosaur, etc. except, these were not the young kids that i teach, but adults who learn english at night after work. then i realized, this is the right answer in vietnam. the life expectancy is considerably shorter here. perhaps this explains the complete disregard of safety. a dad will pilot his motor-scooter with just his right hand which is needed to accelerate, under his left arm, just like you might carry a bag of groceries by pressing it against your body, is his infant child. hope the cellphone doesnt ring.

blessed with smooth skin, women who rarely grow taller than the average 14 year old in america look like children dressed in barbie® goes to work attire. my boss wears braces, shuffles around like little a youngster wearing fuzzy slippers. though she doesnt look a day over 15, she could be twice that, which is to say, middle aged.

i remember reading an article about gillette, the shaver conglomerate setting their sites on china. while the average asian man shaves far less frequently than his western peers who are clearly not as far along in the evolution process, theres a billion of em. who am i to doubt the wisdom of a huge multi-national company, but i cannot see these hairless dudes ever hitting the shaving aisle, if such a section of the drug store even exists. more likely, it would seem like these would fall under the kind specialty items you might special order if you have a freak condition, like shoes for people with one leg inches shorter than the next, gloves for those born with webbed extremities, or a colostomy bag for those who can no longer use the original exit provided.

when you do spot old people, they are ancient. old ladies wear the same pajama suits which are essentially house coats, and bamboo hats like youve seen in the movies. the perfect uniform for toiling under the intense heat, squatting to do washing and baby care duties that are still exclusively ladies work. most likely, this older generation has not felt the slow creep of womens liberation. besides the obvious giveaways such as white hair, crazily wrinkled skin, and a mouth full of gums with maybe just a single rotten tooth remaining. they tend to sport the hairstyle from their day. keeping it up in a bun is apparently very old school.

the grind

I try to never lose sight of what an amazing experience it is here. I meet a ton of the friendliest people every day. Being a big white guy gets you near celeb status when you are in non-touristy areas. I have moved out of my hotel room in the the budget travel area Pham Ngu Lao, which is the local equivalent of Kao San Road. If you havent been to Bangkok, this is the backpacker street that’s a bit of a joke, with so many westerners, each toting a lonely planet and sporting a t-shirt with an ironic message or wearing a sarong but still looking not the least bit local.

The residential area where I share a cute 3 story house with a Vietnamese guy named Hai, a French dude named Simon and his local girlfriend Me, is just 5 minutes over the bridge from the city center, but that’s far enough to remove me from any kind of kitsch shops. It also lessens the possibility of anyone I meet speaking a lick of English. For this reason ive elected to take a course in Vietnamese at the local University. That still leaves quite a few spare hours in my sparsely filled day, but with class prep for the 3 classes I teach and the countless hours of practice that learning a new language will require, ill be lucky if I am able to squeeze in a yoga class every few days.

I was getting a social life together, when a guy on a motorbike snatched the iphone out of my hand mid conversation. I shouted and chased in his direction for a few strides before the bike was lost in the throngs of traffic. I plan to replace the pricey phone that makes you an obvious target with something considerably cheaper, but it may take me a while to build up a new set of numbers.

Nights are a little tricky. it’s not like I know a ton of people, so as night falls, I usually settle into one of the thousands of street kiosks which take over the entire sidewalk forcing pedestrians into the perilous roads. These mom and pop restaurants set up nightly with dozens of crappy little stools that are more suited to a child than someone my size. The things are flimsy and strain under my weight, but so far, I haven’t completely embarrassed myself by shattering one. A good meal can be had for a buck or two, and soup is appropriate fare for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Pho, the noodle soup you can get in the states for about $7 is a safe bet, if you make sure they understand that you dont want any of the mystery parts like pigs ears, intestines or other gross looking shit. Another great choice is the sour fish soup with tomatoes and something that looks like bamboo, but is edible. Theres another one with phosphourescent cubes of tofu floating in it.

While this satisfies my hunger, I still feel the need to do something where conversation with someone might be possible. A handful of super trendy clubs have pricey cover charges and drinks to match. While I normally prefer hole in the wall joints where you can actually hear what the person you are talking to is saying, I went to a fancy schmantzy place sat night. The Cage sounded like the kind of place that might have a goth decor and one of those human cages suspended from cables with semi-clads dancing like at Limelight, the NYC church turned disco that was hugely popular in the 80’s. This place was far more subdued, Bamboo birdcages hanging everywhere, with chandeliers suspended inside them. A cool look I may want to borrow if I ever decide to decorate my place with a 1930s French colonial “indochine” look. The music was actually pretty decent, the DJ working hard to mix some interesting beats, not once playing anything annoying like “tonight’s going to be a good night”, Acon or Lady Gaga. Probably why there wasn’t much of a crowd.

None in fact. Tough break for a club that could easily support 200 to have just a dozen or so. There were 3 women in the place, but all pretty glued to the man standing beside them, and one by one, they were the first to exit. Half a dozen dudes were all that remained, leaning against the bar and staring dumbly at the empty dance floor. Just then the front door opened and a couple of groups piled in, not exactly filling the dance floor but at least reminding you what it was there for. While this made the place feel more like a club, these tight-knit groups were pretty inpenatratable. When a couple of pretty local girls walked in and seemed enthusiastic about the music, sitting alone but doing a bit of chair dancing, I went over to see if they spoke a word or two of my mother tongue. Turns out, they could speak several words, but you really need to listen well to understand someone with an accent, so the pro sound system didn’t provide the best backdrop. I just smiled to everything they said just as they probably did whenever I attempted to communicate. Not a minute into the conversation, Lili got super friendly and I would be a liar to say I didn’t enjoy her wandering hands and the total grind session you dont generally get for your first go on the dancefloor. But where do you go from here if you wont take home a working girl? She wrote her number on my hand, where it remained the remainder of the night while I slept. I glanced at it once more in the morning before stepping in the hot shower.

Metalica

The name of the bar I found just around the corner from work, a super dull neighb by day, a computer district with place after place selling nearly identical shit. But at night, a half dozen cafes, a couple of enticing restaurants and the place I'm in which is rocking out transform the area.

Ok, rocking out might not be the right term, the band was doing "how deep is your love" when I walked in. but now their doing their better material, grunge era stuff like "can u take me higher" by Creed, Alice in Chains and the like.

They don't have Carlsberg Beer I ordered, and I hate to order the Mexican or American imports they serve for top dollar, so I go for their signature cocktail, expecting something with more balls, but I'm disapointed again. The martini glass is adorned with a marachino cherry, and the drink captures the medicinal flavor as well as chalky consistency of kaopectate. Yummy. Price of this must to avoid cocktail is 88,000, or as i often use to guage cost, the same cost as a sushi dinner.

The cute asian front girls nail J.LO's "lets get loud", but the keyboard sounds more like the accordion from our elementary schools music teacher, Michael Berle. Band speaks English perfectly, tho with a certain accent I can't place, prolly from the Philippines or Singapore. Dressed in short shorts and metalic boots, they are nice eye candy and the place starts to fill. But other than a single mixed table, it's all dudes, making this place which already takes it's decor tips from stripper bars, with its all black/grey decor (hides stains) look even more like a place where change is given in singles. just install a brass pole.

A ten minute drum solo is prolly not what u expect in the middle of "rolling on the river", but they deliver a dubble portion of ear shattering percussion. Bon jovies "it's my life" follows. A fave at clubs, the type of song that DJs will switch off the volume and get huge audience participation. Not even near my top 10, but at least it's not "po-po-po-popoker face". Who the fuck is Lady Gaga, and more importantly, why do chicks have the absolute WORST taste in music! Most annoying song on the airwaves since Rihannas "my umbrella"

So this is going to make me sound like a geezer, but I sware the volume they're covering Tina Turner at is doing irreperable damage to my eardrums, and rattling some of my internal organs. Wonder if u can even get earplugs in this country. Today, I watched a shirtless man prying at the rebar holding the tiny cement ledge he was standing on. He was only on the 2nd floor so the fall probably wouldn't kill him, but safety is not a major preocupation.

Bands taking a break and I'm relieved momentarily, but then Modannas "like a prayer" super remix, with added bone shakin' bass comes on. Shit, just when I thought Id check if the blood running out of my ears was of any concern. I am forced to stop tapping on the phone keyboard and literally put my fingers in my ears. Just as I make it to the door, they start to belt out a reasonably believable Cocaine by Clapton. It's definitely hit and miss here, with a range as wide as a karaoke club, spanning the full range between Janice Joplin and Dolly Parton. And like the popular Asian pastime, the more you drink, the better it starts to sound.

Tet

luxury accommodations it aint

but the hotel i found a couple of nights ago is the best deal so far, just 100,000 dong or $6 a nite. clean, cute cleaning staff, good security and away from the tourist area. id rather not be limited to the backpacker district, which is much like staying in times square: catering to a ton of whiteys everywhere with hundreds of hotels back to back, travel agents ready to send you just about anywhere, restaurants with menus in english, crap souvenir shops, atms and of course plenty of hookers handy, some of them actual females. but once anybody knows better, 42nd and 8th ave is the last place youd want to be. wondering aimlessly, i found a lowbrow area (shocking) near the bus station in a district that caters to locals. essentially, ive stumbled upon queens, and while im not much of a fan of my parents', archie bunker's and rosie odonell's home town, im simply luvin how real it is. plus, as the token 6 foot tall Caucasian on the street, i may as well be vin diesel. i get so many looks, hellos from small children, i should carry a sharpie and distribute signatures.

but finding a permanent place to live is anything but easy. i had someone write down how "apt/room for rent" is written so i can recognize it when signs posted. prob is, i dont get any of the other copy on the flier. could say rat infested, or directly above a smelting plant and I wouldn’t know. calling the number, its unlikely anyone who picks up will speak a lick of English other than hello, which seems to have been adopted as the way to answer calls. i found two real estate offices with a list of rooms for rent that cost between $30 and $50, im guessing per week. Unfortunately, complete communication disconnect, so i took their card, and will return with a vietnamese friend. i am also considering enrolling in language classes. I don't do very much here that I need a large vocabulary, just the same stuff I trip over daily.

for instance, this morning, my coffee came black. So I motioned the universal hand language of pouring something into the glass. She held up the sugar, so it seemed like we were heading in the right direction, but then the communication lines broke down. She went into the kitchen for a long time and when she emerged with a tea kettle, I wondered what gesture that was not obcene could impart the idea of something extracted from a cows boob. Next she brought out a cup of tepid water. Not just room temp, but sort of half boiled. Lovely. I shook my head no once more, and was presented with a large mug of iced tea which accompanies most meals, and u dont pay for, no matter how many u throw back. Not the sickeningly sweet Country Time reconstituted chemicals and food colorings variety, but some unsweetened green tea. this shouldnt be so difficult a concept to impart!

Finally someone English speaking showed up and explained one possibility I hadnt considered. They were out of milk.

mythbusters: impossible to find a collie steak here

tons of dogs here, none on the menus of restaurants. while you dont see manicured upper east side prize winning pure-breads on a louis vuitton leash, they are free to run about on the streets, perilously close to moving traffic, the same as young children. fed plenty of scraps and appear healthy. all the people who warned me against bringing sparky because dogs are something put on a baggette with cheese and chili sauce have fallen for this. like the myth that says asian girls special place is a horizontal affair (to match squinted eyes?), theres not a shred of truth in it. busted!

thunder down under

Oz. Not quite how I expected it. Perfectly nice, tho not altogether different from the states. Most of the time, when I forget where I am, it seems like either San Diego or maybe Canada. Only the the abbreviated speech pattern reminds me that I'm in Australia. every word with more than one syllable is truncated. The other hint is that “men at work” still get airplay. AC/DC, midnight oil and of course Ozzie Ozzborne all hail from down here, but nothing gets everyone pumped like “I come from a land down under”. Its like playing “love shack”, “billy jean” and “we are the champions” in succession.

Had good fun, and want to return with more time and a camper van rental, really the only way to really see the vast place. but It's just hard to beat the utter insanity that is Asia, so while it's novel to see that the menu at Mcdonalds differs slightly, there's plenty of amazing places in the states id sooner check out if i wasnt so close-by.

Melbourne is a world class city, with all the fashion, shopping and restaurants you would expect, and this satisfies my wander lust for a couple of days, but soon I want to move on and see the real Australia, if such a thing exists. I quickly learn that its too spread out to get anywhere on foot, so i walk into cheap AZ travel (pronounced cheap ass) and in under an hour, swipe my credit card for $1000 worth of package tours, connecting flights, accommodations and pickup from airports. Not how im used to traveling, but this is like being in LA without wheels.

The tour of the Great Ocean Road is beautiful, but like other bus tours, it suffers from having to do shit with a dozen other people you have nothing in common with. the majority on this trip were a rather dull bunch, spending the entire time on the road snoring or plugged into an ipod. the fun ones were a couple of cute girls, sapna, a physical therapist at NYU and judith, a swiss high school graduate, an english soccer fan named Luke, and David, the Catalunian, who was especially into human tower building. though my family too comes from the Catalan region, the reason for why you would build a ten story tower of people, with a small child on the top no less, was lost on me. still, well worth checking out on youtube. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nly_FQFNcr4

I post a request on Couchsurfing.com for someone to have drinks with when i get to Adelaide, but it gets just a single response. Need a sexier photo or perhaps one of a cat to make my sex ambiguous. They go to great lengths to remind members that its not a dating site, but just like personal ads, I'm going to guess that postings by chicks get a thousand percent better response. there was a weekly get together. I was planning to attend, but just when the thing was starting, I am hit with complete exhaustion. zero sleep on the bus from Balarat the nite before, so this was a complete battery drain I should have seen coming. I miss a the big jam session at the Grace Emily Hotel that is supposed to be one of the best nights in Adelaide. shit.

the beach community of Glenelg (a palindrome!) where Im staying is something like choosing to stay at the Brighton Beach instead of the the hustle and bustle of the city. Great by day, only a block from the beach, the place is populated with the types of people who work on their tans all day. I share a dorm room with a couple of members of a semi pro girls volleyball team. but at night, theres precious little to do. At the backpackers (what they call hostels), people are watching Pretty Woman and Slumdog Millionaire. Good cheap entertainment, and a good way to beat the intense summer heat, but when this double feature is done, i need to get out. Based on a recommendations, i head into town to Couger St, where Chinatown and the central market are. But tues is not a spectacular night out anywhere, and everything other than a few Chinese restaurants are closed. Mongolian bbq dinner for one costs almost $40. Earlier today, I purchased a half liter of ice cream for $9. True, it was the nicely packaged stuff, burnt fig jam and honeycomb, not the huge box of supermarket variety vanilla which cost half that. I dare not stay out past the last tram, since after that, it's a $30 cab fare home. this place is spendy.

"She woke up the frech in me", says the guy on the stairs when we see the two girls I met earlier in the supermarket come out in their panties to brush their teeth before going to bed. Our view from below was quite accidental, just a right place at the right time kind of thing, but absolutely exquisite. somewhere tucked in there was a thong hidden between perfectly round, tanned and toned cheeks. for all intents and purposes, their asses were bare. Im not a religious person, but this was something of a Praise the Lord moment.

Gott in Himmel!

homesick?

Perhaps a little. A flight from the states must have landed because there are slopilly taped up boxes circling the carousel that say home depot, uhaul and solo cups. I can't say it brings a tear to my eye, but I think to myself, hmmm wonder when I'll be back. What I'm missing most? Familiar faces. Tho I meet people daily, these friendships are fleeting.

Mandy and Matt; She's totally hot east German girl with a great smile. Travels with matt, a hottie in his own right, a bearded brad Pitt, but maybe a lil shorter. Who can tell, arent Al Pacino and Tom Cruise so puny that they have to stand on a platform? His story is amazing, from the heart of Montana, somehow he left his white trash, hunting culture behind and traded it in for a well stamped passport and a Euro babe.

more profiles of the cool people ive met to come...

Sushi dinner for a fiver

Strange concept, unemployed, but have full time housekeeper who do your wash, clean the house, prepare meals if you ask. Handed her the one belt I had which was totally gross smelling, mildewy from many swims and then never a proper drying to see if she could save the thing. In the meantime, to keep my shorts from falling off my ass, and to give myself some kind of attainable goal for the day, i go on a shopping adventure, and find that unlike stores in the states that wont do shit for you, anyone who sells a leather product has some basic tools and the skills to make adjustments. In a few minutes, the shop im at removes the buckle of a something i picked out, cut a couple of inches off, punch a some extra holes, and voilà, a custom fit. Try doing that at the GAP.

Most kiosks are selling the same shit, knock offs of calvin klien, levis, whatever. You will find sunglasses with the mercedes benz logo on it. Only one kiosk sells something highly original: crazy patterned underwear named Pull-In (as opposed to pull-out?) Super fun, might have been a good sexy valentines day gift if I knew anyone who would let me see them in their panties. But the price is something impossibly stupid, about the cost of 8 sushi dinners!

The street curves following coastline, across from which is a huge construction site on a AAA prime location. Someone told me that the Vietnamese are like the Chinese and Jews. Communists, sure, but they sure know how to turn a buck. While the rest of the world is still suffering a bad hangover, their economy grew 6%. The ground has yet to be broken, but surely, a beautiful glass tower with unbelievable futuristic architecture and unbeatable river views will soon sprout in this location. The little winding streets in which I live will be lucky to stick around.

Down an alley are a bunch of cafes, an ad agency or two judging from the cool logos and The Cage, a cheesy looking club the likes of which I'd never attend at home, but am highly curious about here. The street dead ends into a super trendy looking Sushi Bar. It's 11:01 when I walk past, just a minute after the doors have opened, like some crazed bargain shopper on black Friday waiting at the front gate to snap up some of the door buster deals. A little early for sushi, normally, but I've eaten fish/rice for brekky every day for a couple of months, so it's not a huge stretch. The prices are very enticing. Beautifully presented raw fish for just 90,000 dong,

the answer is no

a question u get often when describing tales of travel to exotic places, is did you get laid yet?

while certain friends of mine seem to always find a new play-mate whenever they're away for even the briefest period of time, these tend to be women who are obviously hotter than me. Call me a romantic or a pussy, but i generally require a chunk of time to fan the fire. My pickup style is not enhanced when everyone you meet will be strapping their bags on and leaving just as quickly as they arrived.

once in a blue moon, there's obvious chemistry and you win the girl without having to liquor her up or club her over the head. this seemed to be the case when I met Galit, a cute Israeli girl, traveling the world like the entire rest of the Israeli population who have just completed the armed forces. those of you who scored high on the SAT's are already doing the math and have deducted that this must make her just 21. therein lies the problem. actually, I could live with the huge age "gap", if that word even is applicable for this massive divide. while i hardly fault her generation for thinking that flashdance/risky business attire is their contribution to fashion, her youthful number was never really an issue. somehow, me being a little more than twice that is somehow less cause for celebration. I was born in 64, her in 88.

if you're a guy, this probably sounds like a high-five moment. Let's crack open an ice cold one! Woo-hoo! Female friends will surely roll their eyes in unison and groan. Grow up already. Hu lo ritzini. my sincere apologies if you are offended by my selection, but besides being young, Galit is fun, cool, curvy, tall, tan and lovely, a little like the girl from Ipanema. I would be as intrigued had she been in her 30s or 40s which would make us a far less preposterous pairing. im no pedophile, but who doesn't like a young sweet thing?.

chasing younger women also comes partly from necessity. choosing from my peer group is not usually an available option. Its the 20 somethings that are out and about, traveling the world, unattached and who wanna party. 30 somethings come with their boyfriends in tow. the two couples I met were either planning an engagement or looking to buy a house together. mazel tov to both, but as the last single guy I know still on the hunt for a girl, this is of limited use. people in their 4th decade are by and large absent, either at home raising families, or possibly going on singles cruises for the 59 and under set. I will sooner swallow poison. It skips to the next generation, 50 somethings njoying their empty nest, or showing the world to their teenage children who'd rather be back home on their playstation, tho i am technically closer to this group celebrating half a century, my life is still rooted in stuff that appeals to kids.

which brings us back to the girl. a former officer in the army, now free to explore india, maybe dabble with an illegal substance or two, try to figure out what she wants to do with her life, or at least what tattoo she will get. and open to having a few wild experiences before settling into traditional life. or so it seemed. following a couple of late nights of lengthy conversation, easy laughter, shooting stars and the cliche'd walk on the beach, we end up in an all-out public make-out session more appropriate for a college freshman... which she will be next year. By the time we stumbled out of the private cabana from the very swanky Sankara club, the pillows were overturned this way and that, making it look like a lot more had transpired. but that was as far as we i'd get. by all appearances, it looked like a beautiful line drive to right field. people who know me well will recognize that I'm using sports terminology I barely understand, but everyone knows the rule is NOT to get tagged out at first.

Galit was constantly running the numbers. during a brief breather in an otherwise passionate kiss, she notes the following: "when I was born, you were older than I am now". yes, quite right, now shut up and put your tongue back in my mouth. earlier, she had described the men she dated as older, but the fact that I'm within a couple of years her folks was a little beyond her comfort level. id like to point out that im in fact two years younger than those geezers!

i had a really nice room with a view of the beach and the sound of the ocean, but this was not sufficient to keep the romance going into the wee hours, all naked and sweaty under the sheets as i had imagined the evening might go. i asked her to stay, but she wouldn't spend the night.

we spent some time the following day, but not the same as the flirty day prior. laughable first dates was one of the conversations we had and hers seemed to follow a prescribed formula: all start apprehensively, and always involve the ignoring obvious red flags and her 6th sense. so i cant say i was shocked when my phone buzzed with a freshly minted text and not the warm and fuzzy kind. in it were words 'I'm really sorry', and the :( face. In the course of a couple of days, I went from complete stranger to gross PDA violator, to the top of her really bad idea list. sucks, because i actually really liked her, and she was not simply someone i wanted to lay a couple of times and forget. cest la vie.

everyone says 45 is supposed to be the new 35, but perhaps ive got to figure out how to make this minor adjustment on my passport.

hook 'em

one of the awesome things about southeast asia is the $5 massage, and ive been taking them pretty regularly without incident. but what kind of massage do you expect to get at ten o'clock at night? well, this place had none of the obvious tell tale signs. No tacky neon, strobes, smoked mirrors, or scantily clads inviting you in. it was staffed by middle aged people wearing very practical, if somewhat dowdy clothes. maybe that they had me pay up-front was a red flag. anyway, the girl who entered my room after I'd changed into the supplied shorts was young and cute and while I can't say she was dressed like a ho, the little black dress she wore seemed a lil sexy for the job. her name was mee and she was 22 or so she claimed. mee could be the equivalent of bambi or emerald or any other obvious stripper type name and i wouldnt get it.

The massage started off as usual, though it seemed like there was more of that karate chopping you do after a bunch of serious bodywork and less substance. she did that thing where your neck is cracked on either side, and with adequate skill not to actually break it. Halfway in, she quits working and climbs on top of me, suggesting some of the ol' boom-boom. Given the dirth of offers, tho purely a business proposition, the come on didnt feel half bad. The pricing is as follows: sex on the massage table, or back at the hotel room, I couldn't quite understand which goes for 400,000 dong (the local currency), or about $25, 300 for oral pleasures, and 200 for your basic hand administered happy ending.

First I said no, which she pretended not to understand, so I tried, "married" pointing to my ring finger. This explanation might have held more weight had the digit actually sported a band of shiny gold. Finally, I tried "girlfriend", which she finally understood, made a crying face and stopped trying. While she quit pushing her wares, getting her to resume the regular massage was another story. She half heartedly rested a hand on my sholder while using the other hand to text a friend. I took the phone from her and put it under the pillow, but she just put her arms around me. While it was less than the massage I bargained for, i decided that an innocent cuddle was acceptable to pay for, even tho this was just a way for her to do as little work as possible. it ended the minute there was a knock on the door, an hour to the min from when she entered my room.

getting away wasnt quite so easy, as she basically baricaded the door, asking for money. I guess you're buying their time, however u choose to use it. I threw a fifty thousand note on the bed and when she went to get it, I let myself out. By far, the least impressive massage I'd received thus far, so she really didn't earn the $3 tip.

OSHA would not approve

Knew I would see this, just a matter of time. Guy riding on the back
of a moto holding a giant sheet of glass. Accident would be gruesome,
but by the looks on everybodys faces, it's business as usual.
that expression, "only in NY" does not even hold a candle to the crazy shit
u see here. For instance: guy working on contruction site, hoisting
materials up, walkng on the frame of the building barefoot.

breakfast of champions

costs just a buck. I'm not talking a minuature box of rice krispies u cut open and pour in 1/2 a cup of milk. Buzzing restaurant, serving at least 100 and more waiting outside to get in. I pont to something that looks tasty, and I am rewarded with a huge bowl of soup with a huge chunk of fish at the bottom.

All these street vendors with tasty snacks for around half a buck. Grabbed a sandwich with little bits of fried mystery and veggies on French bread, a little styrofoam take awy box of corn and dried fish, with something crunchy and sweet like corn-flakes as a topping, ice coffee with condensed milk available from little old ladies on most busy intersections. or go to one of the big corporate looking chains, like highland coffee and pay the $3 for a latte it would cost at home, your choice.

if you get it on the street, you will be sitting on a chair that would fit a child in kindergarten. when they see a big westerner like me, they will often double of on the flimsy chairs. at fresh squeezed juice places, recycled water bottles of yummy carrot juice or any other of a dozen varieties are tempting. and now I'm having gelatto in order to avoid walking in front of a wall of moving traffic.

somehow it works

Someone elses opinion about the insane traffic. Really, I thought, as I considered crossing a street with a heavy flow of never ending traffic with no traffic light to aid the timid pedestrian. I watched a Vietnamese guy negotiate his way across, waving to be seen, walking between hundreds of vehicles that just barely miss him. Anywhere else, and this would be the sure sign of a
lunatic. Call belview and tell to bring one of those spiff white jackets that tie in the back. In a few min, he has crossed the street in one piece, but I am not in the least bit encouraged.

I eye the nokbox cafe with floor to ceiling plate-glass windows on the corner overlooking the intersection and decide to sit it out up there for a little while. I will count casualties, and if the number is relatively low, perhaps I will continue in the direction I was heading. Alternatively, I can forget about all my worldly possessions and get a guesthouse on this side of the busy street.

I make the motion of wanting to wash my hands, and I am handed an individually wrapped disposable towel on a plate with ice. whatever.

why I don't own a tv

Boring day, spent at kenney brewers coffee, a cross between starbucks and Duncan donuts. Totally lame spot, but I needed their free wifi. Awful Muzak with a kenney g feel. Spent at least 6 hours there, sending out resumes for teaching jobs. Wore me out so that I stumbled home in something of a crummy mood. A drink out with friends, or even maybe some strangers might have fixed things. Instead, headed home, thinking that maybe a shower or nap would perk me up, but I got stuck in front of the tube. When I'd finished the first movie about dumb criminals with a shitty exit stategy, it wasnt too late, maybe just after ten, and thats when i should have pulled myself away. Instead there was something called the beast about a russian tank lost in Iraq, and the Comander who gets crazy on power. By that time, it was past midnight, and I thought too late to wake up the woman who has to let you in and out of the front door. its not a hotel where you dont give a shit about the poor slob who has to man the front desk in the middle of the night. living in a guesthouse, which is just a fancy name for renting some family's spare room means that you wake up grandma every time you come in late. Just when I was on the fence. a will Farrell movie about skaters came on and I was soon hooked on the moronic plot. This pretty much killed any plan to explore, meet and greet, chase wimin or just let the barman your stand in for an actual buddy. Writing the blog, watching asian music videos,
reading the lonely planet about this city, nothing has made me tired, so I watched the carry grant/katherine Hepburn film set in france where everyone is murdered in the pursuit of rare stamps. 4 movies, it's almost 5am and I'm still not even tired enough to close my eyes. But I'll be plenty tired-tomorrow.

slumming saigon

It was clean, cute and had a comfortable bed, at at $15 a night, probably not the cheapest i could score, but not going to break the bank. Guest houses are stacked one next to the other, so if I had wanted to, I could have checked out a couple of hundred places, but there’s always a business on the ground floor which the family running the place lives above, so the rooms available are often up on the highest floor. each lot is the same 15 feet wide, like NY tenements, and its kind of hard to believe theres enough room for a stairwell, but they somehow jam them in. Lots of little old two story dwellings with elderly people living in them, right next door to 10 story glass clad sliver towers. others are chinese style, that is to say tacky as shit, horribly overdone with columns and garish chandeliers. A handful have super chic styling and their narrow little lobbies could double as trendy cafes, but I’m not the sort to pay extra for a flat screen TV.

this area known as the Backpacker central is on the sight of where the train depot used to be. Tho the trains no longer run, the central station charm remains. Staying in the local equivalent of 42nd and 8th, youre an easy target for petty scams. It’s not long before you tire of getting solicited. Stuff as innocuous as touts trying to get you into restaurants with menus that forgo local dishes for all varieties of western standards, like burgers, fries, fish and chips, spaghetti and full English breakfasts. Frequent offers for weed. Mobile hookers are nothing new I guess, pages and pages of every cities telephone directory dedicated to escorts. here, the ass business consists of very young looking girls who get driven around on the backs of motorbikes, in one case the driver being a grandmothers age. makes an already sketchy biz even more unappealing. Also sad are all the children trying to sell you gum. There are also many varieties of people who are severely disfigured being wheeled about in hopes of getting spare change.

Street vendors sell some pretty tasty treats. by day, you will periodically hear a loud recording, kinda like the mister softee truck, which encourages people to buy sticky rice pastries. late nite, stir fried noodles and meat is popular, as are places to get a big bowl of pho. guys who ride around slowly on bicycles rattling something, means they give massages. Although they don’t have any kind of tables, I think you either invite them up to your room, which doesn’t seem particularly safe, or take your massage lying in the street, a park bench, whatever. Other guys have an over-sized set of old metal scissors that they open and close repeatedly. Can’t even guess what service they offer. Late night tailoring or knife sharpening? anything is possible in this weird place.

warm welcome

One my last day, I get up at 6am to make it back to town which I had not missed one bit, grab my gear and hop the bus to Vietnam. 12 hours on the bus not normally something you look forward to, especially with a case of the shits, but fortunately, they seemed to stop prety regularly before an emergency ensued. Bus cost a mere $13, or about a buck an hour. By the time we pulled into vietnams most populous city, I should have been rested, other than the carpal tunnel in my thumb from tapping this blog into my phone till i ran the batteries dead, but I was still weak from repeated visits to the toilet. this put me not in much of a mood for the throng of people trying to get your attention when everyone got off the bus. I ignored the lot, walking past as if I knew where I was heading, taking the first place I could find. one woman was trailing me, going to follow me to whatever hotel i chose and request her cut. I told her to go away, and she replied in broken, but fully understandable english: Fuck off. i live here, go back to your country. welcome to saigon.