Day Eleven in...and out of Paradise

So today I was becoming more and more concerned that I'd be whisked off to be wed to some unsuspecting Vietnamese maiden, but these suspicions were unfounded. While my host, Anna, repeatedly indicated that I should marry the young lady I mentioned in my previous post, who turned out not to be Anna's sister, but perhaps rather her cousin or something. The relationship they exhibited today seemed more like that of best friends or cousins. Anyway, either they were largely joking, or my dissent was accepted and appreciated.

Anyway, she seemed neither enamored nor disgusted by me, which is a pretty good state to be in, in my book. I returned to the hotel, having collected four million dong to supplement my waning wallet stash, to find most of the women of the family and friends, and the lady herself. At least part of me was unable to avoid considering her features and character, but as we never got properly introduced, I was working primarily with her looks.

Much time was spent at the table eating nuts and candies, enjoying the time together, but I naturally knew almost nothing which was said. Given an environment like that, with seemingly nobody and nothing to talk about but myself, I became paranoid that they genuinely hoped or even expected me to choose a bride and wed her.

Give me a break. I've never traveled before. I'm naive. I'm American. I'm certainly no good at understanding Vietnamese. In my defense, my parents and a fellow passenger on one of my flights here somewhat elevated my paranoia and suspicion of my hosts' motives. But...

I should really move on. It was an excellent time in/near Tam Coc, and I would heartily recommend staying at the Anna Tham Hotel View to anyone, but especially those at least moderately fluent in either French or Vietnamese. With the benefit of one of these languages, communication would be much more fluid, and it would be much easier to deny lovely young Vietnamese women your hand in marriage without confusion or delay.

Anna charged me for nothing but the room. I can mention, I guess, that the price she offered when I contacted her via email was higher than prices offered on booking sites online, but I used the bike probably four or five days, ate (a lot of) breakfast, plenty of lunch and dinner with them, during the last seven days or so, and drank plenty of water (1.5 liters of which was freely given to me for the 12 hour bus ride to Hoi An). Given all this, I wouldn't be at all surprised if I'd racked up well over another million dong; Anna simply calculated the days I stayed, times the price I paid, and then converted to dong.

People have had bad experiences with the hotel, and it's certainly a possibility, as 1. The room doors are difficult to lock (after the first three days, I didn't bother) 2. The showers are somewhat awkward. 3. Other minor quibbles.

Face it, though, for $22 a night, you're getting a ton. I'm hoping to stay at a homestay in Hoi An, and I'd be surprised if they could treat me better. Also, the banana pancakes will be difficult to beat. I'd love to try making some back home right now, but I suspect the quality of ingredients back home would make them mundane and uninteresting; I think the bananas here sort of have a deeper flavor; it's like the ones we have at home are two dimensional, and the ones here in Vietnam are three-dimensional. Anyway, I really like the banana pancakes.

I'm currently on a bus to Hoi An. I may have said that before, but I should describe it, lest you never know what a Vietnamese sleeper bus is like. To begin with, it's a pretty big bus. It has three rows of two layers of beds, which can lift up to a sitting position.

They seem to be playing a Vietnamese television station right now, which as a live performance of what seems to be pop music; in the background you can regularly hear the loud PARP of the bus's horn. The horn will almost certainly be consistently in use throughout the night. I think in the case of buses the use of the horn isn't so much to announce one's presence, but rather to barge as quickly and as dangerously as possible through traffic. It serves to alert other vehicles to its presence, but I believe in the case of the buses, they're in a big hurry and don't care who knows it.

I'm about twenty kilometers outside Ninh Binh now, and have been on this bus no more than forty minutes. I have yet twelve hours, I believe, until I reach Hoi An. The beds around me are occupied with a variety of Vietnamese, some quite young, and some more middle-aged. The young lady in front of me is particularly adorable. I hope I can bring a smile to her face sometime during this journey.

I remain somewhat sick, but recovering. Unwed, but content. I should be in Hoi An early tomorrow.


!Noah!