Forgotten Gems

In the rush of writing posts to keep up with the demands of our (approximately 2-4) readers, I've forgotten some particularly funny little gems. So, here you go:

While walking around Bangkok early in our trip, a tuk tuk driver offered us a ride for 15B. We declined and started to walk away. He called after us, "ok, 20B!" This man needs a lesson in bargaining technique. One does not get much business by raising prices.

During our exploration of the Pak Ou Caves north of Luang Prabang, we came across some children selling little birds in cages. Apparently, if we bought them, we could set them free. (An excellent selling tactic, I might add, that appeals to all the guilt-ridden tourists, especially Americans, who can't bear the thought of poor, innocent creatures behind bars.) As disturbing as this was, it wasn't nearly as bad as the two captive moles, each tethered by a string around one foot, as the children casually hung them upside down. Jen still cries herself to sleep at night for neglecting to save them from their captors.

I've already mentioned the multitude of children selling postcards, guide books, water, etc at the Temples of Angkor. I was proud, and then ashamed, when I bargained one of them down from $2 to $1 for a 10-pack of postcards. A little while later, as we walked to the next temple, one of the girls approached Jen, selling postcards. She suggested that she could send one to her husband. Jen mentioned that she didn't have a husband. "Well, then, your boyfriend," said the girl. Jen told her that she didn't have a boyfriend. "Wanna know why you have no boyfriend?" the girl asked. "Because you no buy postcards." Clever, that one.

Later that day, as we splashed through puddles on our spiffy bicycles, a couple on a moto nearly took Jen out as they turned into her from a side road. Jen stopped suddenly and said "dude!" At which they laughed. Since Jen was not run over, I feel okay admitting that I too laughed when I heard the story afterwards. The girl has been in LA way too long!

I often marvel at the optimism of the (mostly female) tourists who wear white pants while out and about. It's just not a good idea.

In an effort to decrease the weight of my pack, I've taken to leaving something behind everywhere we go. In Bangkok, it was a book. (Which, admittedly, I was able to sell, so I didn't exactly leave it, I suppose.) Same in Kanchanaburi and Chiang Mai. In Luang Prabang, I left behind a pair of cheap convertible pants that had never fit quite right. In Phnom Penh, another book, this time sitting on the nightstand, waiting for the next unsuspecting tourist. (It was a really wretched book.) In Hanoi, a book and a pair of shorts I had bought in Luang Prabang in an ill-advised moment of consumerism. I tried to leave a tank top on the boat, but the crew found it before we disembarked and I had to take it with. Suddenly, I'm reminded of that Mitch Hedburg line about people passing out flyers on the street. "Here, you throw this away..."

The inevitable finally happened in Hanoi: our van driver hit a moto. It was a narrow street, with motos all around, and suddenly, thud. Luckily, she looked surprised more than injured, so the people on the sidewalk (and I use that term loosely) helped her up, righted her bike, and we kept driving.

We're staying in Ho Chi Minh City right now, at the apartment of my best friend's old bosses. They are currently out of town, and were incredibly kind in offering us their place to stay for the duration of our visit. (Their generosity overwhelms me, and I hope in the future I am able to reciprocate in some way.) They also arranged for the building's van to pick us up from the airport, thus eliminating the possibility of another errant taxi driver. When we came out of the airport with our baggage, the driver was holding a sign that said "Welcome Ms. Kristen Jerry and Ms. Jen Dusik..."