Thursday, August 31, 2006
At the market
Sitting in the office back in Ireland late with flickr on in the background. This market in Bac Ha was amazing. How quick it all becomes nostalgia.
Friday, June 30, 2006
Couchsurfing
Couchsurfing is dead.
Can you believe it?
In case you don't know about it, it is the wonderfull network of people that made our trip the amazing one it has been.
It was a website.
It crashed.
It is dead.
Well, of course it isn't.
Some people are already talking about building it up again. And I am sure they will be able to. It is only a matter of time.
Good ideas never die, and this idea had 90.000 members.
So basically this is a tribute to Couchsurfing as it was. Cs is dead, long live CS.
And a welcome to Couchsurfing as it will be.
It is also to remind any of the friends we met throught the network that they can reach us through this blog if they don't have our email addresses...
There you go.
Oh, and we live in Cork now by the way.
It is another story.
Life goes on, Smile!!!
Can you believe it?
In case you don't know about it, it is the wonderfull network of people that made our trip the amazing one it has been.
It was a website.
It crashed.
It is dead.
Well, of course it isn't.
Some people are already talking about building it up again. And I am sure they will be able to. It is only a matter of time.
Good ideas never die, and this idea had 90.000 members.
So basically this is a tribute to Couchsurfing as it was. Cs is dead, long live CS.
And a welcome to Couchsurfing as it will be.
It is also to remind any of the friends we met throught the network that they can reach us through this blog if they don't have our email addresses...
There you go.
Oh, and we live in Cork now by the way.
It is another story.
Life goes on, Smile!!!
Wednesday, April 19, 2006
Laos, Luang Namtha trek dinner
Thursday, April 13, 2006
Back Home
Well. It is really strange. Catapulted back in time and space. Flying in thirteen hours what took us the best part of thirteen months. It feels almost to be robbed of the experience.
All the same, it was great to get back to Bath and hook up with a lot of old friends. Well, not all of them unfortunately, but another time soon hopefully. It was even better to get back to the traffic jam that is Dublin to catch up with family again. Got in yesterday, flying Aerlingus. Ryan Air seem to have a tendency to carry pranksters and land in Military airports. It is probably because they keep getting all these RAF fighter escorts. It must be going to their heads.
Anyway, the slingshot back from Singapore was grand. A really fine flight. First time in a 747, I couldnt believe we got a window seat. Flying over Dehli at night was very memorable, as was the flight over the Himalayas. It was perfectly clear most of the way.
We had a real blast in Singapore. K Hong is a brilliant host of Impeccable taste, as is his French girlfriend Laure. We spent our last evening at the opening of the new Puma store there. It was a gentle reintroduction to the real world, or the real world as we usd to know it....
We sailed through Malaysia in a matter of days, staying only briefly in Georgetown, which is a really great town, especially for food and 'heritage' architecture. KL was interesting as well. But again we only really had a peek as we were there so short a time. The butterfly park in KL was incredible though. Apparently the national Orchid farm and Aviary are impressive too. All in all we'd spent enough time to know we definetly have to come back to Malaysia and have a proper look around. Ah well. Another life.
Prior to our 4 days in Malayasia we spent a great week on Ko Lipe, an island in the Tarutao national park in Thailand, R&R after our gruelling year long holiday, lapping up the sun with hours of snorkelling, kayaking and out on the boat, lolling around eating the finest fish sipping Sang Som and generally living in suspended animation amongst the other great characters there. Even our German maestro in the neighbouring Bungalow was cool, despite or maybe because of playing the Didgereedoo (spelling?) at 4.0 am in the morning. I am sure it is a nice way of ushering in the dawn around Alice Springs, but I am not sure he expected to usher in the adjacent residents from Bunglaows B3 and A2 ('its very good but its 4am' comment). The (second) best thing about the place we stayed was the name. Porn Resort. Porn is the name of the family/guy who owns it, nothing untoward.
There is only one year left of Ko Lipe as a fairly relaxed- or certainly the most relaxed island destination in Thailand- as Lonley Planet has listed it in its top ten things to do in Thailand, and there are various commensurate developments on the way as well. OH well. At least we weren't Like Tom, a German artist/artisan who had lived there for nearly 6 months 16 years ago. He inhabited the only bungalow on Pattaya beach (now festooned with thumping bars and the usual seeds of the Thailand Island strip. Watch out Phuket.) Himself, his girlfriend, a soldier, the soldier's wife and their kid were the only inhabitants that side of the island. The soldier used to shoot coconuts out of the tree, and Tom and hs girlfriend survived on squid and paying in fish that they caught and bartered for veg and other necesities. For him the island is long gone, and he is dismayed, not so much at the arrival of Tourism on the island, but more that others arriving there are telling him that it is the quietest and best place in Thailand. Or left in Thailand. The fact that it is also the last and nearest inhabited island to the Malaysian border would give everyone good reason to think that it is probably the last outpost of the wild Thailand so celebrated in books like the 'Beach' and a million million holiday posters. Very depressing, but entirely, us the travellers' fault.
Prior to that was a very brief sojourn in Bangkok and Chiang Mai. Chiang Mai we met Georges, old family friend of the Vermonts, who showed us a great time. He also promised to email me loads of tips and info on learning French which I am looking forward to. I could use it, as I am on my way over there imminently.
Of course, finally it happened to me. It had happend to Sol already, having met Laure in Seoul (now in Bangkok, but we missed her unfortunately....) and realising that she had mutual friends back in France. We were in a Wat in Chiang Mai. No it was a stupa, a very large one with elephants on it. (My interest in cultural history and artefacts was waning at this stage, and the Thai's weren't at all that good at presenting it - at least what we saw of it. Its not the type of tourism they're used to I suppose). Well anyway. There was Frantisek. And Klara, over on holiday from Prague. Madness, hadnt seen them in 5 years. It was great. Unfortunately they were jumping on a flight back home to Europe that evening, but it was great to catch up with them. Apparently they always meet someone they know while away, always completely randomly, and Klara was wondering whether that would be the first time that they didnt...and then I rocked up. Anyway, it was good to see them and I am sure we'll see them in the not too distant future in Czech!
Before all of this was Laos. Laos is great. Look out Laos. I suppose all this touristic lark is coming their way too. Already Vam Viang is a backpackers slum (although the surrounding landscape is still very special and offers respite from the alleged Simpson/Friends TV watching marathons). We were curious enough about the place to avoid it completely. Especially as the people we had met who had visited there reckon that this is the best reason to visit Laos. To lie in a hammock and watch TV. My Arse. Laos is certainly the least spoilt of the countries we visited in SE Asia (Myanmawr obviously is less developped, but we didnt get there.) And probably the most special. The French used to say of the peoples of SE Asia, that the Vietnamese would plant the rice, the Cambodians would watch it, and the Laotians would listen to it grow....
It is still a communist state, the Monarchy 'dying' out in the 70's. (Certainly the most modest monarchy we encountered in SE Asia, judging by the palace and grounds). And in SE Asia Communism means that you have a CHinese contractor to build all your roads for you.
The mighty Mekong RIver runs down the backbone of the country having spilt out of Myanmawr (Burma to you colonial types) and China and on its way down to Cambodia and Vietnam. There are so many stories and amazing things about the Mekong, I think I have to do it in a seperate post. But for the moment suffice it to say that the Chinese are making shit of this river too, damming further up toward the source and blasting rapids to make them navigable for barges. Heavy industry in Myanmawr is not helping either. This has untold consequences for everyone downstream, especially Cambodia and Laos whose cultural and agricultural life revolves around the river and its tributaries. But another post, I promise.
I enjoyed Vientiane. There is nothing to do there. There is not even that much traffic. But there are some fantastic restaurants and bakeries. What a haven as well, where we found Conchi and Troi, living out in SE Asia instead of the middle east for a change. Their stories of Yemen and Iran made me ache to get down there. Before American Foreign Policy make shit of them. (Between the American Foreign Policy and that of the Chinese, which is worse I wonder?)
In my mind regardless of what type of regime you run in your country, if you had 13 odd bases of your sworn enemy (the USA) sat on your border area, I think I'd be trying any means to insure that they wouldn't invade, or make sure they pay the penalty for invading. I dont understand. I dont understand American foreign policy. Even if it is driven by big corporations and a thirst for Oil, surely they can do a better job of it than this. I mean they must be able to. I mean who the hell is surprised when you skewer a country on the axis of evil pour 1000's of troops into surrounding countries mounted on its borders and your 'foe' turn around and develop nuclear 'power'? Surpised? Not me.
I was really moved by one of Conchi and Troy's stories of visiting Iran. Meeting a mother in a bakery (or shop or market, I cant remember exactly, but randomly in the street) who subsequently insisted on them coming over for dinner the following evening. They went of course, and had a really great time with the family. I dont remember them talking about the Dad being there, but she had some children. After dinner and over tea, the lady of the house asked them in all seriousness and near desperation, would the Americans invade Iran? Within living memory of the damage and ruin of the Iran Iraq conflict (where Iran was de facto fighting the Americans and their western buddies anyway) and the live picutes of Iraq being beamed into their living rooms every night, I cant even begin to imagine the fear ordinary Irianians are feeling in the face of the threat of American military action.
Perhaps there are some Iranians that would have welcomed the idea of liberaton by the Americans or the west. Perhaps there are people who remember the 'halycon' days of the Shah and the time before the Ayatollahs. But even then, I doubt if they savour the idea of 'Iraq style liberation' at what proved to be the inadequate hands of the Americans. In our family home in Ireland, 'to liberate' something was always a euphemism for 'to steal' something. I doubt if there are very many American families in the armed forces who relish the idea of liberating another country anyway. Theirs and the families in the liberated countries are the ones that bear the burden and the true cost anyway.
It would have been great to return to Europe through Myanmawr, Bangladesh, Nepal, India, Pakistan and Iran. But time nor money was on our side, and we had to skirt out of Asia and coast down to Singapore for our flight home. Back to Europe, and Ireland, isolated and insulated from the real world out there. Having travelled so far it feels that Europe is really far away for most people in the world. For the powerful Asian economies it is merely a pimple on the arse of Asia. For the middle east and the Caucasus and the poor SE Asia Europe is an ineffectual aristocratic has been of once-were-warrior nations, their teeth cut on colonialism, their pensions safe on the plunder from it.
And yet still, for many people outside of it, Europe is their best hope. To get into it, or for them to reach out.
I wonder if Europe really knows?
All the same, it was great to get back to Bath and hook up with a lot of old friends. Well, not all of them unfortunately, but another time soon hopefully. It was even better to get back to the traffic jam that is Dublin to catch up with family again. Got in yesterday, flying Aerlingus. Ryan Air seem to have a tendency to carry pranksters and land in Military airports. It is probably because they keep getting all these RAF fighter escorts. It must be going to their heads.
Anyway, the slingshot back from Singapore was grand. A really fine flight. First time in a 747, I couldnt believe we got a window seat. Flying over Dehli at night was very memorable, as was the flight over the Himalayas. It was perfectly clear most of the way.
We had a real blast in Singapore. K Hong is a brilliant host of Impeccable taste, as is his French girlfriend Laure. We spent our last evening at the opening of the new Puma store there. It was a gentle reintroduction to the real world, or the real world as we usd to know it....
We sailed through Malaysia in a matter of days, staying only briefly in Georgetown, which is a really great town, especially for food and 'heritage' architecture. KL was interesting as well. But again we only really had a peek as we were there so short a time. The butterfly park in KL was incredible though. Apparently the national Orchid farm and Aviary are impressive too. All in all we'd spent enough time to know we definetly have to come back to Malaysia and have a proper look around. Ah well. Another life.
Prior to our 4 days in Malayasia we spent a great week on Ko Lipe, an island in the Tarutao national park in Thailand, R&R after our gruelling year long holiday, lapping up the sun with hours of snorkelling, kayaking and out on the boat, lolling around eating the finest fish sipping Sang Som and generally living in suspended animation amongst the other great characters there. Even our German maestro in the neighbouring Bungalow was cool, despite or maybe because of playing the Didgereedoo (spelling?) at 4.0 am in the morning. I am sure it is a nice way of ushering in the dawn around Alice Springs, but I am not sure he expected to usher in the adjacent residents from Bunglaows B3 and A2 ('its very good but its 4am' comment). The (second) best thing about the place we stayed was the name. Porn Resort. Porn is the name of the family/guy who owns it, nothing untoward.
There is only one year left of Ko Lipe as a fairly relaxed- or certainly the most relaxed island destination in Thailand- as Lonley Planet has listed it in its top ten things to do in Thailand, and there are various commensurate developments on the way as well. OH well. At least we weren't Like Tom, a German artist/artisan who had lived there for nearly 6 months 16 years ago. He inhabited the only bungalow on Pattaya beach (now festooned with thumping bars and the usual seeds of the Thailand Island strip. Watch out Phuket.) Himself, his girlfriend, a soldier, the soldier's wife and their kid were the only inhabitants that side of the island. The soldier used to shoot coconuts out of the tree, and Tom and hs girlfriend survived on squid and paying in fish that they caught and bartered for veg and other necesities. For him the island is long gone, and he is dismayed, not so much at the arrival of Tourism on the island, but more that others arriving there are telling him that it is the quietest and best place in Thailand. Or left in Thailand. The fact that it is also the last and nearest inhabited island to the Malaysian border would give everyone good reason to think that it is probably the last outpost of the wild Thailand so celebrated in books like the 'Beach' and a million million holiday posters. Very depressing, but entirely, us the travellers' fault.
Prior to that was a very brief sojourn in Bangkok and Chiang Mai. Chiang Mai we met Georges, old family friend of the Vermonts, who showed us a great time. He also promised to email me loads of tips and info on learning French which I am looking forward to. I could use it, as I am on my way over there imminently.
Of course, finally it happened to me. It had happend to Sol already, having met Laure in Seoul (now in Bangkok, but we missed her unfortunately....) and realising that she had mutual friends back in France. We were in a Wat in Chiang Mai. No it was a stupa, a very large one with elephants on it. (My interest in cultural history and artefacts was waning at this stage, and the Thai's weren't at all that good at presenting it - at least what we saw of it. Its not the type of tourism they're used to I suppose). Well anyway. There was Frantisek. And Klara, over on holiday from Prague. Madness, hadnt seen them in 5 years. It was great. Unfortunately they were jumping on a flight back home to Europe that evening, but it was great to catch up with them. Apparently they always meet someone they know while away, always completely randomly, and Klara was wondering whether that would be the first time that they didnt...and then I rocked up. Anyway, it was good to see them and I am sure we'll see them in the not too distant future in Czech!
Before all of this was Laos. Laos is great. Look out Laos. I suppose all this touristic lark is coming their way too. Already Vam Viang is a backpackers slum (although the surrounding landscape is still very special and offers respite from the alleged Simpson/Friends TV watching marathons). We were curious enough about the place to avoid it completely. Especially as the people we had met who had visited there reckon that this is the best reason to visit Laos. To lie in a hammock and watch TV. My Arse. Laos is certainly the least spoilt of the countries we visited in SE Asia (Myanmawr obviously is less developped, but we didnt get there.) And probably the most special. The French used to say of the peoples of SE Asia, that the Vietnamese would plant the rice, the Cambodians would watch it, and the Laotians would listen to it grow....
It is still a communist state, the Monarchy 'dying' out in the 70's. (Certainly the most modest monarchy we encountered in SE Asia, judging by the palace and grounds). And in SE Asia Communism means that you have a CHinese contractor to build all your roads for you.
The mighty Mekong RIver runs down the backbone of the country having spilt out of Myanmawr (Burma to you colonial types) and China and on its way down to Cambodia and Vietnam. There are so many stories and amazing things about the Mekong, I think I have to do it in a seperate post. But for the moment suffice it to say that the Chinese are making shit of this river too, damming further up toward the source and blasting rapids to make them navigable for barges. Heavy industry in Myanmawr is not helping either. This has untold consequences for everyone downstream, especially Cambodia and Laos whose cultural and agricultural life revolves around the river and its tributaries. But another post, I promise.
I enjoyed Vientiane. There is nothing to do there. There is not even that much traffic. But there are some fantastic restaurants and bakeries. What a haven as well, where we found Conchi and Troi, living out in SE Asia instead of the middle east for a change. Their stories of Yemen and Iran made me ache to get down there. Before American Foreign Policy make shit of them. (Between the American Foreign Policy and that of the Chinese, which is worse I wonder?)
In my mind regardless of what type of regime you run in your country, if you had 13 odd bases of your sworn enemy (the USA) sat on your border area, I think I'd be trying any means to insure that they wouldn't invade, or make sure they pay the penalty for invading. I dont understand. I dont understand American foreign policy. Even if it is driven by big corporations and a thirst for Oil, surely they can do a better job of it than this. I mean they must be able to. I mean who the hell is surprised when you skewer a country on the axis of evil pour 1000's of troops into surrounding countries mounted on its borders and your 'foe' turn around and develop nuclear 'power'? Surpised? Not me.
I was really moved by one of Conchi and Troy's stories of visiting Iran. Meeting a mother in a bakery (or shop or market, I cant remember exactly, but randomly in the street) who subsequently insisted on them coming over for dinner the following evening. They went of course, and had a really great time with the family. I dont remember them talking about the Dad being there, but she had some children. After dinner and over tea, the lady of the house asked them in all seriousness and near desperation, would the Americans invade Iran? Within living memory of the damage and ruin of the Iran Iraq conflict (where Iran was de facto fighting the Americans and their western buddies anyway) and the live picutes of Iraq being beamed into their living rooms every night, I cant even begin to imagine the fear ordinary Irianians are feeling in the face of the threat of American military action.
Perhaps there are some Iranians that would have welcomed the idea of liberaton by the Americans or the west. Perhaps there are people who remember the 'halycon' days of the Shah and the time before the Ayatollahs. But even then, I doubt if they savour the idea of 'Iraq style liberation' at what proved to be the inadequate hands of the Americans. In our family home in Ireland, 'to liberate' something was always a euphemism for 'to steal' something. I doubt if there are very many American families in the armed forces who relish the idea of liberating another country anyway. Theirs and the families in the liberated countries are the ones that bear the burden and the true cost anyway.
It would have been great to return to Europe through Myanmawr, Bangladesh, Nepal, India, Pakistan and Iran. But time nor money was on our side, and we had to skirt out of Asia and coast down to Singapore for our flight home. Back to Europe, and Ireland, isolated and insulated from the real world out there. Having travelled so far it feels that Europe is really far away for most people in the world. For the powerful Asian economies it is merely a pimple on the arse of Asia. For the middle east and the Caucasus and the poor SE Asia Europe is an ineffectual aristocratic has been of once-were-warrior nations, their teeth cut on colonialism, their pensions safe on the plunder from it.
And yet still, for many people outside of it, Europe is their best hope. To get into it, or for them to reach out.
I wonder if Europe really knows?
Tuesday, April 04, 2006
Fin du voyage
Et voila, c'est presque fini...
Nous prenons l'avion demain pour Londres, retour en Europe, a son semi printemps froid et pluvieux...?
Nous sommes a Singapour, ca fait une trotte depuis le Laos d'ou j'ai tape nos dernieres nouvelles.
Depuis, nous avons passe un peu de temps avec Georges, un vieil ami de mes parents a Chiang Mai en Thailande, deux jours a Bangkok ou nous avons de nouveau rate laure, une semaine a Ko Lipe, une ile de reve sur le point d'etre devastee par le tourisme et trois jours en Malaisie.
Ca sera mon plus grand regret, la Malaisie. La region est fascinante, avec sa mixture de malais, de populations aborigenes, de chinois et d'indiens.
Ca fait un peu bizarre de penser a chercher du boulot, trier nos photos (15000), trouver un appart, retourner dans la vraie vie, quoi.
Il y a ce que nous devrions desapprendre, comme boire a la bouteille avec nos levres autour pour eviter les cahos du bus, parler aux animaux, courber la tete pour remercier...
Et puis il va falloir acheter des fringues et retourner vers les plaisirs et horreurs du monde de la consommation...
A bientot tout le monde!
Nous prenons l'avion demain pour Londres, retour en Europe, a son semi printemps froid et pluvieux...?
Nous sommes a Singapour, ca fait une trotte depuis le Laos d'ou j'ai tape nos dernieres nouvelles.
Depuis, nous avons passe un peu de temps avec Georges, un vieil ami de mes parents a Chiang Mai en Thailande, deux jours a Bangkok ou nous avons de nouveau rate laure, une semaine a Ko Lipe, une ile de reve sur le point d'etre devastee par le tourisme et trois jours en Malaisie.
Ca sera mon plus grand regret, la Malaisie. La region est fascinante, avec sa mixture de malais, de populations aborigenes, de chinois et d'indiens.
Ca fait un peu bizarre de penser a chercher du boulot, trier nos photos (15000), trouver un appart, retourner dans la vraie vie, quoi.
Il y a ce que nous devrions desapprendre, comme boire a la bouteille avec nos levres autour pour eviter les cahos du bus, parler aux animaux, courber la tete pour remercier...
Et puis il va falloir acheter des fringues et retourner vers les plaisirs et horreurs du monde de la consommation...
A bientot tout le monde!
Friday, March 10, 2006
Vietnam, road rules and the shipping news
I was standing on the side of the road for ages trying to photograph a scooter in flight. No mean feat with a digital camera it has to be said, but this is the best I got, and as such I am proud of it!
It is hard to describe how mental the driving in Vietnam is, especially on scooters. The rules of the road such as they are dictate that you only have to wear a helmet on a bike if you are going between towns, not within town. This was explained to me after we witnessed the aftermath of collision between a pick up truck and scooter. We came on the scene in our bus on the road from Nha Trang. The bus slowed and there was nothing to see at first, just a crowd gathered round the scene. But as we got closer we could see the look on most of the faces, and then suddenly through the crowd came a man carrying a corpse of a guy, his head destroyed. There is no other way of describing it. It was just hair and blood. The moment was gone in an instant. The was silence in our bus, but a feeling that it was quite common, almost normal.
The guy beside us who explained about helmets also explained that cars already on the main road are responsible for avoiding what is in front of them. Thus nobody, and I mean nobody from a cyclist to trucker looks or waits to join a stream of traffic, they just drive into it without looking left or right. This ironically makes crossing the road relatively straight forward for a pedestrian who has a bit of nerve. Conversely to execute a lefthand turn (they drive on the right) scooters and even cars will turn onto the main road, driving on the wrong side, waiting for a gap in the traffic inorder to slip accross. In fact it is a good idea to only look where you are going and not behind you to your left or right, because this is where you are most likely to come a cropper, especially as a cyclist!
The guy who explained the rules of the road to me is an Nautical Engineer. He has an interesting job. He refits or 'fixes' brand new ships. A big industry in SE Asia now, particularly Vietnam. His latest was adding another 25 meters length to a brand new Malaysian freighter that had already become too small after the order was completed. The ship was already 180+ meters length (as I remember it) and they were about to lop it in half and add the extra meters smack in the middle,so as they could get a few hundred extra containers in there.
It's OK he said. They know what they are doing. I really amn't that sure anymore!
By the way incase this doesnt work, this was posted by Kevin, but publishd via flickr so it comes up as Sol.
It is hard to describe how mental the driving in Vietnam is, especially on scooters. The rules of the road such as they are dictate that you only have to wear a helmet on a bike if you are going between towns, not within town. This was explained to me after we witnessed the aftermath of collision between a pick up truck and scooter. We came on the scene in our bus on the road from Nha Trang. The bus slowed and there was nothing to see at first, just a crowd gathered round the scene. But as we got closer we could see the look on most of the faces, and then suddenly through the crowd came a man carrying a corpse of a guy, his head destroyed. There is no other way of describing it. It was just hair and blood. The moment was gone in an instant. The was silence in our bus, but a feeling that it was quite common, almost normal.
The guy beside us who explained about helmets also explained that cars already on the main road are responsible for avoiding what is in front of them. Thus nobody, and I mean nobody from a cyclist to trucker looks or waits to join a stream of traffic, they just drive into it without looking left or right. This ironically makes crossing the road relatively straight forward for a pedestrian who has a bit of nerve. Conversely to execute a lefthand turn (they drive on the right) scooters and even cars will turn onto the main road, driving on the wrong side, waiting for a gap in the traffic inorder to slip accross. In fact it is a good idea to only look where you are going and not behind you to your left or right, because this is where you are most likely to come a cropper, especially as a cyclist!
The guy who explained the rules of the road to me is an Nautical Engineer. He has an interesting job. He refits or 'fixes' brand new ships. A big industry in SE Asia now, particularly Vietnam. His latest was adding another 25 meters length to a brand new Malaysian freighter that had already become too small after the order was completed. The ship was already 180+ meters length (as I remember it) and they were about to lop it in half and add the extra meters smack in the middle,so as they could get a few hundred extra containers in there.
It's OK he said. They know what they are doing. I really amn't that sure anymore!
By the way incase this doesnt work, this was posted by Kevin, but publishd via flickr so it comes up as Sol.
Cambodge et Laos depuis Vientiane
La douceur du Laos est legendaire. A Angkor, nous avons rencontre l'architecte charge de la restauration du Baphuon, un temple a demi demantele laisse a l'abandon depuis les annees 70. Quand, le lendemain, nous lui avons ecrit pour lui faire part de notre decision de quitter le Cambodge pour le Laos plutot que de passer trois jours de plus parmis les temples il a repondu que nous avions probablement raison.
Le Laos n'est pas un pays spectaculaire, du moins pas apres l'enormite de la Russie et de la Chine ou les paysages extraordinaires de l'Est de la Turquie, mais c'est un endroit ou l'on se sent bien. Ca tient surtout a ses habitants. Pour un oeil occidental, ils sont incroyablement decontractes, et. forcement, ca deteint sur nous. Ou sont les chauffeurs de tuk tuk nous helant bruyament toutes les deux minutes, les vendeuses de souvenirs (you buy, madam, you buy? just have a looka), les enfants surrexcites? A leur place, nous croisons des colegiennes en Sarongs, les chaufferus de tuk tuk font la sieste dans leurs hamacs et les serveurs de restaurants ont toujours le sourire pret a naitre.
Nous sommes arrives par le Sud du pays.
Apres avoir quitte Siem Reap et Angkor, nous sommes redescendus sur Phnom Penh au Sud Est avant de remonter vers le Nord et Kratie.
Nous avons passe une nouvelle journee a Phnom penh, a explorer son marche, surout, un batiment incroyable tout droit sorti d'un film de science fiction apocalyptique: une enorme coupole surmontee de toits et de fenetre innombables, ocre jaune delave marbre de poussiere rouge. Dessous, des stands tres respectables de bijouterie, de vetements et d'electromenage, et autour un dedale de piles de tissus, produits de beaute, quincaillerie...
Nous avions une bonne raison de nous arreter a Kratie: au Vietnam, nous avions rencontre Judith et Mark, un couple neerlandais. Il est photographe (cf sidebar), elle est optometriste(!). Elle allait bientot passer quelques semaines, benevolement, dans l'hopital de Kratie. D'apres eux, la ville etait tres jolie. La deuxieme raison: les dauphins. Dans le Mekong pres de Kratie vie une race de dauphins d'eau douce en voie d'extinction (il en reste quelques uns en Birmanie et au Laos) que l'on peut observer a distance respectable.
C'est ce que nous avons fait. Le soir de notre arrivee nous nous sommes faits conduire par le gerant de notre hotel (a 3 sur une moto, a la cambodgienne) jusqu'au point d'observation gere par le police. La somme payee par les touristes pour entrer sur le site et louer un bateau est censee servir a l'etude et la preservation des animaux. Ils en ont bien besoin: un des hommes presents nous a dit qu'aucun des petits recents n'avait survecu. Et puis, beaucoup d'animaux meurent pris dans des filets et empoisonnes (?).
Il reste une bonne vingtaine de dauphins sur cette portion du Mekong, et ils ont appris a se tenir loin des bateaux. La loi exige que tous les moteurs soient coupes si ils s'approchent a moins de 20 metre.
C'etait le soir, nous etions tous seuls avec notre jeune batelier patient. Le soleil se couchait, le ciel rose et dore se refletait sur l'eau et pendant une heure nous avons vu les dauphins affleurer a la surface, sortir la tete, cracher de l'eau par groupes de deux ou trois.
Le lendemain, nous sommes alles visiter l'hopital.
Les hollandais financent le service ophtalmologie, et les japonais le service des protheses et de la reeducation. Enfait, il n'y a presque plus d'accidents dus a des mines dans la region. Le danger principal: motos et scooters.
L'hopital et petit et aussi charmant qu'un hopital peut l'etre: un ensemble de longs batiments bas aux toits a deux pans entoures de galeries. Tous etaient peints en blanc sauf un, qui abritait le service de tuberculose.
Depuis qu'elle est arrivee, Judith a passe plusieurs journees a tourner dans les villages avec ses collegues cambodgiens. Rares sont les paysans qui se rendent d'eux meme a l'hopital: a chaque fois, c'est toute la famille qui se deplace, ce qui signifie abandonner champs et animaux. Pour ceux qui vivent de l'autre cote de la riviere, traverser coute (je crois) 3000 riels par personne. Une famille vit avec 8000 (2 dollars) par jour. Grace aux aides internationales, l'hopital rembourse a present les patients pour leurs frais de transport, mais ca reste beaucoup d'argent a empreinter. Et puis, il y a aussi l'attitude generale de fatalisme, ou plutot d'acceptation, des cambodgiens.
Toujours est il que c'est souvent aux medecins de se deplacer, et c'est vrai aussi au Laos.
A Kratie, ils sont formes pour reconnaitre ce qu'ils peuvent soigner. Simples problemes de vue, cataracte, myopie... pour le reste, ils s'efforcent de rassurer les patients. Ceux pour qui c'est necessaire prennent alors rendez vous a l'hopital et, en general, se presentent quelques jours plus tard. Avec toute leur famille. Ils n'auront qu'un dollar a payer par operation, le reste etant finance par l'association Mekong Eye Doctors.
Et voila, c'etait notre derniere etape au cambodge. Je me suis efforcee de dessiner quelques unes des tres belles maisons locales, en bois ou paille tressee pour les plus pauvres, mais la dizaine d'enfants survoltes autour de moi n'a pas rendu la tache facile. Resultat: un tout petit dessin tout de travers artistiquement decore de dizaines de traces de petits doigts: j'ai les empreintes digitales des coupables.
Le lendemain, nous avons pris la longue route vers le frontiere et les habituelles arnaques a touristes: douaniers reclamant quelques dollars et organisateurs de transport haissables au premier regard.
Nous ne le savions pas mais nous etions en route vers un petit bout de paradis. Siphandon. Des dizaines d'iles aux courbes douces sur le Mekong, couvertes de rizieres et de bananiers, palmiers et autres arbres fruitiers, et peuplees de buffles, egrettes, cochons, chats, poules et... laotiens tranquilles. Et la, nous avons eu encore plus de chance: les touristes sont loges dans de bungalows de bambous tresses, et les premiers etaient tous pris. Nous avons du marcher dans le noir, demandant toutes les deux minutes et recevant toujours la meme reponse. Sorry, full. Finalement, nous avons trouve un lit, du cote "sunrise" de l'ile. Ce que nous ne savions pas, c'est que la dame qui tenait le bungalow comme le petit restaurant a cote etait une des meilleures cuisiniere du coin (ca nous a ete affirme par la suite par d'autres voyageurs). Toujours est il que nous avons passe deux jours de reve a ne faire pratiquement rien, manger de delicieux repas et nous laver dans la riviere. Avec la lessive, la vaisselle, les buffles, les enfants comme les adultes.
Bon, le deuxieme jour je me suis offert une migraine, due probablement a une heure passee la veille a pedaler sur la route la plus pourrie du monde pour essayer de trouver une cascade. Nous nous etions perdus: une vieille dame au sourire charmant nous avait envoyes dans la direction opposee de celle que nous aurions du prendre.
Le lendemain, nous sommes partis pour Champassac, hisoire d'y visiter un nouveau temple khmer. En fait de ville il s'agit surtout de maisons tranquillements etirees le long d'une route. Quelques unes datent de temps des francais et alternent plus ou moins avec des temples. Un temple, une maison, un temple, la poste, un temple, un restaurant et ainsi de suite. En fait, l'endroit a ete considere comme sacre depuis des siecles, probablement des milliers d'annes. Il l'etait apparemment pour les Khmers, et ce pour une raison toute simple: ils etaients hindous a quelques exceptions pres, et, sur une colline derriere Champassac se dresse un pilier de pierre aisement assimilable au Linga (i.e. penis) de Shiva, le dieu hindou favori des khmers de l'epoque. C'est probablement a cause de ce colonne naturelle visible depuis plusieurs kilometres qu'une ville a ete etablie sous la chaine de collines, et un temple a son pied.
Aujourd'hui, la ville d'origine a disparu, mais on peu encore lire son plan depuis les airs. Le temple est toujours la, en gres et en laterite, austere au premier abord mais de plus en plus poetique a mesure que l'on s'avance dans le site, passant les barays (bassins), deux batiments a l'air serieux encadrant un grand espace central, puis une allee bordee de lingas (certains disent colonnes surmontees de boutons de lotus) menant a un tres bel escalier de pierre borde de frangipaniers. L'escalier est erode par le temps, ses pierres dechaussees, les frangipaniers se tordent, partent presque a l'horizontale, troncs gris et noueux puis se redressent , chaque branche garnie d'un bouquet de fleurs blanches et jaune pale. Tout en haut on trouve un petit sanctuaire aux bas et haut-reliefs delicats, abritant a present des statues de Boudha souriantes. Derriere, une source sacree dont l'eau arosait probablement le linga d'origine et, vers la droite, un amoncellement d'enormes blocs de pierre brises dont certains montrent encore des traces de sculptures. On dirait qu'une partie de la falaise s'est effondree sur des socles de lingas geants.
Le soir, il y avait une fete dans le village. Sur une scene, des artistes en costume traditionnel racontaient des histoires et chantaient entoures de jeunes filles repetant inlassablement la meme choregraphie dans pleins de tenues differentes. Les garcons du public glissaient des billets a celles qu'ils preferaient et elles acceptaient, timides et flattees. Il y avait entre 600 et 1000 personnes dans le public, assis par terre ou jouant a des jeux de foire souvent a base de lancer de flechettes.
Apres Champassac, Tad Lo. Re bungalows, re cascade superbe, mais apres la beaute et la nonchalance de Siphandon, l'endroit perdait de son charme. En ce qui me concerne, ma plus grosse reticence venait de la destruction de la foret locale. L'habitude locale est celle de la terre brulee, ce qui est OK sur une petite echelle. Mais a Tad Lo, on avait l'impression d'une destruction systematique de la foret, de nouvelles parcelles etant eclaircies et brulees sans meme que le bois ne soit recupere. Apres plus d'une heure de marche en plein soleil entre parcelles cramees et plantations de bananiers nous sommes arrives en haut d'une cascade superbe, et trois petits garcons nous ont guide de palier en palier jusqu'en bas.
Nous sommes repartis le jour suivant, pour Thakhek ou nous avons de nouveau passe deux jours a ne rien faire, Kevin ne se sentant pas bien.
Et nous voila a Vientiane, la capitale du pays. Nous logeons chez Conchi et Troy, un couple hispano canadien rencontre sur Couchsurfing. Ils sont tres tres sympas et nous nous sentons presque chez nous. Le soir, nous avons le genre de discussions ideologiques que je n'ai jamais eu quand j'etais etudiante. Impact du tourisme sur l'environnement ou la culture d'un pays, mefaits du materialisme etc... bon, et recettes de cuisine aussi ou encore nos bouquins preferes.
Hier soir, nous avons eu le plaisir de rencontrer Louis Gabaude, un ami d'ami de mes parents qui vit en Thailande depuis plus de 30 ans et etait de passage a Vientiane. Comme Pascal Royere a Angkor, il travaille pour l'ecole francaise d'extreme orient, mais lui sur le boudhisme et plus patriculierement, en ce moment, ses relations avec la politique. Passionnant meme si nous n'avons fait qu'effleurer le sujet. Nous ne savons vraiment pas grand chose du boudhisme. Kevin et moi.
Vientiane est une ville charmante. Pas jolie, mais tranquille et toute petite. Il y a des temples partout, certains tres kitsch et d'autes somptueux. Les rues sont colorees par les moines en robe safran et les jeunes femmes en sarongs. Le soir, le long du Mekong, en face de la Thailande, on donne des cours d'aerobics pour les filles ou on organise des matches de foot pour les garcons dans le lit presque asseche du fleuve. Sur les berges on peu boire un verre sur des chaises en plastique et manger du poulet ou du poulpe grille.
Le Laos n'est pas un pays spectaculaire, du moins pas apres l'enormite de la Russie et de la Chine ou les paysages extraordinaires de l'Est de la Turquie, mais c'est un endroit ou l'on se sent bien. Ca tient surtout a ses habitants. Pour un oeil occidental, ils sont incroyablement decontractes, et. forcement, ca deteint sur nous. Ou sont les chauffeurs de tuk tuk nous helant bruyament toutes les deux minutes, les vendeuses de souvenirs (you buy, madam, you buy? just have a looka), les enfants surrexcites? A leur place, nous croisons des colegiennes en Sarongs, les chaufferus de tuk tuk font la sieste dans leurs hamacs et les serveurs de restaurants ont toujours le sourire pret a naitre.
Nous sommes arrives par le Sud du pays.
Apres avoir quitte Siem Reap et Angkor, nous sommes redescendus sur Phnom Penh au Sud Est avant de remonter vers le Nord et Kratie.
Nous avons passe une nouvelle journee a Phnom penh, a explorer son marche, surout, un batiment incroyable tout droit sorti d'un film de science fiction apocalyptique: une enorme coupole surmontee de toits et de fenetre innombables, ocre jaune delave marbre de poussiere rouge. Dessous, des stands tres respectables de bijouterie, de vetements et d'electromenage, et autour un dedale de piles de tissus, produits de beaute, quincaillerie...
Nous avions une bonne raison de nous arreter a Kratie: au Vietnam, nous avions rencontre Judith et Mark, un couple neerlandais. Il est photographe (cf sidebar), elle est optometriste(!). Elle allait bientot passer quelques semaines, benevolement, dans l'hopital de Kratie. D'apres eux, la ville etait tres jolie. La deuxieme raison: les dauphins. Dans le Mekong pres de Kratie vie une race de dauphins d'eau douce en voie d'extinction (il en reste quelques uns en Birmanie et au Laos) que l'on peut observer a distance respectable.
C'est ce que nous avons fait. Le soir de notre arrivee nous nous sommes faits conduire par le gerant de notre hotel (a 3 sur une moto, a la cambodgienne) jusqu'au point d'observation gere par le police. La somme payee par les touristes pour entrer sur le site et louer un bateau est censee servir a l'etude et la preservation des animaux. Ils en ont bien besoin: un des hommes presents nous a dit qu'aucun des petits recents n'avait survecu. Et puis, beaucoup d'animaux meurent pris dans des filets et empoisonnes (?).
Il reste une bonne vingtaine de dauphins sur cette portion du Mekong, et ils ont appris a se tenir loin des bateaux. La loi exige que tous les moteurs soient coupes si ils s'approchent a moins de 20 metre.
C'etait le soir, nous etions tous seuls avec notre jeune batelier patient. Le soleil se couchait, le ciel rose et dore se refletait sur l'eau et pendant une heure nous avons vu les dauphins affleurer a la surface, sortir la tete, cracher de l'eau par groupes de deux ou trois.
Le lendemain, nous sommes alles visiter l'hopital.
Les hollandais financent le service ophtalmologie, et les japonais le service des protheses et de la reeducation. Enfait, il n'y a presque plus d'accidents dus a des mines dans la region. Le danger principal: motos et scooters.
L'hopital et petit et aussi charmant qu'un hopital peut l'etre: un ensemble de longs batiments bas aux toits a deux pans entoures de galeries. Tous etaient peints en blanc sauf un, qui abritait le service de tuberculose.
Depuis qu'elle est arrivee, Judith a passe plusieurs journees a tourner dans les villages avec ses collegues cambodgiens. Rares sont les paysans qui se rendent d'eux meme a l'hopital: a chaque fois, c'est toute la famille qui se deplace, ce qui signifie abandonner champs et animaux. Pour ceux qui vivent de l'autre cote de la riviere, traverser coute (je crois) 3000 riels par personne. Une famille vit avec 8000 (2 dollars) par jour. Grace aux aides internationales, l'hopital rembourse a present les patients pour leurs frais de transport, mais ca reste beaucoup d'argent a empreinter. Et puis, il y a aussi l'attitude generale de fatalisme, ou plutot d'acceptation, des cambodgiens.
Toujours est il que c'est souvent aux medecins de se deplacer, et c'est vrai aussi au Laos.
A Kratie, ils sont formes pour reconnaitre ce qu'ils peuvent soigner. Simples problemes de vue, cataracte, myopie... pour le reste, ils s'efforcent de rassurer les patients. Ceux pour qui c'est necessaire prennent alors rendez vous a l'hopital et, en general, se presentent quelques jours plus tard. Avec toute leur famille. Ils n'auront qu'un dollar a payer par operation, le reste etant finance par l'association Mekong Eye Doctors.
Et voila, c'etait notre derniere etape au cambodge. Je me suis efforcee de dessiner quelques unes des tres belles maisons locales, en bois ou paille tressee pour les plus pauvres, mais la dizaine d'enfants survoltes autour de moi n'a pas rendu la tache facile. Resultat: un tout petit dessin tout de travers artistiquement decore de dizaines de traces de petits doigts: j'ai les empreintes digitales des coupables.
Le lendemain, nous avons pris la longue route vers le frontiere et les habituelles arnaques a touristes: douaniers reclamant quelques dollars et organisateurs de transport haissables au premier regard.
Nous ne le savions pas mais nous etions en route vers un petit bout de paradis. Siphandon. Des dizaines d'iles aux courbes douces sur le Mekong, couvertes de rizieres et de bananiers, palmiers et autres arbres fruitiers, et peuplees de buffles, egrettes, cochons, chats, poules et... laotiens tranquilles. Et la, nous avons eu encore plus de chance: les touristes sont loges dans de bungalows de bambous tresses, et les premiers etaient tous pris. Nous avons du marcher dans le noir, demandant toutes les deux minutes et recevant toujours la meme reponse. Sorry, full. Finalement, nous avons trouve un lit, du cote "sunrise" de l'ile. Ce que nous ne savions pas, c'est que la dame qui tenait le bungalow comme le petit restaurant a cote etait une des meilleures cuisiniere du coin (ca nous a ete affirme par la suite par d'autres voyageurs). Toujours est il que nous avons passe deux jours de reve a ne faire pratiquement rien, manger de delicieux repas et nous laver dans la riviere. Avec la lessive, la vaisselle, les buffles, les enfants comme les adultes.
Bon, le deuxieme jour je me suis offert une migraine, due probablement a une heure passee la veille a pedaler sur la route la plus pourrie du monde pour essayer de trouver une cascade. Nous nous etions perdus: une vieille dame au sourire charmant nous avait envoyes dans la direction opposee de celle que nous aurions du prendre.
Le lendemain, nous sommes partis pour Champassac, hisoire d'y visiter un nouveau temple khmer. En fait de ville il s'agit surtout de maisons tranquillements etirees le long d'une route. Quelques unes datent de temps des francais et alternent plus ou moins avec des temples. Un temple, une maison, un temple, la poste, un temple, un restaurant et ainsi de suite. En fait, l'endroit a ete considere comme sacre depuis des siecles, probablement des milliers d'annes. Il l'etait apparemment pour les Khmers, et ce pour une raison toute simple: ils etaients hindous a quelques exceptions pres, et, sur une colline derriere Champassac se dresse un pilier de pierre aisement assimilable au Linga (i.e. penis) de Shiva, le dieu hindou favori des khmers de l'epoque. C'est probablement a cause de ce colonne naturelle visible depuis plusieurs kilometres qu'une ville a ete etablie sous la chaine de collines, et un temple a son pied.
Aujourd'hui, la ville d'origine a disparu, mais on peu encore lire son plan depuis les airs. Le temple est toujours la, en gres et en laterite, austere au premier abord mais de plus en plus poetique a mesure que l'on s'avance dans le site, passant les barays (bassins), deux batiments a l'air serieux encadrant un grand espace central, puis une allee bordee de lingas (certains disent colonnes surmontees de boutons de lotus) menant a un tres bel escalier de pierre borde de frangipaniers. L'escalier est erode par le temps, ses pierres dechaussees, les frangipaniers se tordent, partent presque a l'horizontale, troncs gris et noueux puis se redressent , chaque branche garnie d'un bouquet de fleurs blanches et jaune pale. Tout en haut on trouve un petit sanctuaire aux bas et haut-reliefs delicats, abritant a present des statues de Boudha souriantes. Derriere, une source sacree dont l'eau arosait probablement le linga d'origine et, vers la droite, un amoncellement d'enormes blocs de pierre brises dont certains montrent encore des traces de sculptures. On dirait qu'une partie de la falaise s'est effondree sur des socles de lingas geants.
Le soir, il y avait une fete dans le village. Sur une scene, des artistes en costume traditionnel racontaient des histoires et chantaient entoures de jeunes filles repetant inlassablement la meme choregraphie dans pleins de tenues differentes. Les garcons du public glissaient des billets a celles qu'ils preferaient et elles acceptaient, timides et flattees. Il y avait entre 600 et 1000 personnes dans le public, assis par terre ou jouant a des jeux de foire souvent a base de lancer de flechettes.
Apres Champassac, Tad Lo. Re bungalows, re cascade superbe, mais apres la beaute et la nonchalance de Siphandon, l'endroit perdait de son charme. En ce qui me concerne, ma plus grosse reticence venait de la destruction de la foret locale. L'habitude locale est celle de la terre brulee, ce qui est OK sur une petite echelle. Mais a Tad Lo, on avait l'impression d'une destruction systematique de la foret, de nouvelles parcelles etant eclaircies et brulees sans meme que le bois ne soit recupere. Apres plus d'une heure de marche en plein soleil entre parcelles cramees et plantations de bananiers nous sommes arrives en haut d'une cascade superbe, et trois petits garcons nous ont guide de palier en palier jusqu'en bas.
Nous sommes repartis le jour suivant, pour Thakhek ou nous avons de nouveau passe deux jours a ne rien faire, Kevin ne se sentant pas bien.
Et nous voila a Vientiane, la capitale du pays. Nous logeons chez Conchi et Troy, un couple hispano canadien rencontre sur Couchsurfing. Ils sont tres tres sympas et nous nous sentons presque chez nous. Le soir, nous avons le genre de discussions ideologiques que je n'ai jamais eu quand j'etais etudiante. Impact du tourisme sur l'environnement ou la culture d'un pays, mefaits du materialisme etc... bon, et recettes de cuisine aussi ou encore nos bouquins preferes.
Hier soir, nous avons eu le plaisir de rencontrer Louis Gabaude, un ami d'ami de mes parents qui vit en Thailande depuis plus de 30 ans et etait de passage a Vientiane. Comme Pascal Royere a Angkor, il travaille pour l'ecole francaise d'extreme orient, mais lui sur le boudhisme et plus patriculierement, en ce moment, ses relations avec la politique. Passionnant meme si nous n'avons fait qu'effleurer le sujet. Nous ne savons vraiment pas grand chose du boudhisme. Kevin et moi.
Vientiane est une ville charmante. Pas jolie, mais tranquille et toute petite. Il y a des temples partout, certains tres kitsch et d'autes somptueux. Les rues sont colorees par les moines en robe safran et les jeunes femmes en sarongs. Le soir, le long du Mekong, en face de la Thailande, on donne des cours d'aerobics pour les filles ou on organise des matches de foot pour les garcons dans le lit presque asseche du fleuve. Sur les berges on peu boire un verre sur des chaises en plastique et manger du poulet ou du poulpe grille.
Monday, February 20, 2006
What is left of the Vietnam war
An unexploded mortar shell surrounded by stones on the site of the Khesan Fire base in the west of the former DMZ. Khesan offensive drew American forces away from the intended targets of the North Vietnamese Tet Offensive. All that is here now is a Coffee plantation and a museum of war detritus. We didnt go to the museum but had walk around the site. Khesan saw some of the fiercest and most intense fighting of the war. Our guide told us that veterans who come here to look on where hell on earth was for them 30 years ago are shocked to find nothing, no trace of that titanic struggle. No markers beyond the museum. The carnage subsumed by the highland scrub and coffee plants. It almost feels as if someone in the museum left this shell here, so that Veterans can gather round it , something tangible of the danger they lived through. In that, the marker stones placed there are more than just a warning, they are rememberances of the time they lived through as well.
Design and Art from Vietnam
I re-read my last post and realised that Vietnam got a bit of a thumping, and I didnt have very much good to say about it. But I really feel that we only got glimpses of the real thing. And the whole country is reallyin the middle of an upheaval, burdened with all the associated pain.
We met a lot of people, one of whom was an amazing Cyclo driver, one of the myriad of former South Vietnamese Army who were out of a job and essentially out of the picture for good after the liberation fo Saigon. Net result is that most of these guys and their families, the ones in particular who stayed, are seemingly the ones running street kitchens and cyclo drivers of the city. In two years time they will be reducing the number of cyclo drivers to just 50 registered drivers from the thousands now. Generally speaking the Cyclos represent the poorest of the poor in Vietnam, and the municipal government is wiping out the trades and main income for hundreds maybe thousands of Saigonese in one fell swoop. Not very much in Vietnam (or anywhere) is equitable. He doesn't know what he will do when it comes to it. He is lucky enough in that he picked up decent english in the army and can ply a decent trade among tourists. But not for much longer. He had friends in the States who asked him to leave with him, but hedidnton account of his family. To protect them from the regime accusing them of being a family of collaborators with a traitor son.
Speaking of the regime, we met a Party Member (I assume) in a restaurant in Hue, who was head of the districts' Education Board. We had an interesting enough conversation, but all he was really interested in was what budget we had for travelling. It was an annoying encounter but full of insight. I was telling him that I dont think China is a very good model for Vietnam, but that is the way Vietnam is heading. Primary School is free, but secondary is around $42 per month, and university is about $67 per month. The average wage is about $40 per month. For me from afar and particularly from my Irish perspective, education is the only way up for most people,and beyond that immigration. But it is still well beyond the means of most people.
Mai Loc is a budding photographer from Nha Trang. We bough a couple of his small prints. His stuff is really good. He has overcome many technical difficulties, and more practical difficulties. For example he prints B&W on colour paper (so the quality is grained) because B&W photographic paper is impossible to come by in Vietnam, and ordering it from abroad isn't worth the heartache in a country where customs and excise just love to open boxes that arrive from Europe. There are seemingly quite a few budding artists around nowadays in Vietnam. We met a few sculptors in Hoi An and Chau Doc on the Cambodian border. There was an absolutely fantastic painter whose work we saw in Hanoi - Tran Thanh. He was selling pieces for thousand, but I reckon they were abargain for what ele I have seen selling for thousands in Europe.
I feel perhaps that more than anything else there is a resurgence in self expression, particularly artistic in Vietnam. Although the plastic and painted arts have a long long way to go in terms of subject and invention (the oil paintings and sculptures are generally terrible, though there are some gems), the technique and ability really seems latent in Vietnamese culture, right through from the architecture to the street kitchens. Some of the expression is no doubt borrowed from french modernism and earlier, but the way they have subsequently developed it is quite interesting and they really have a sense of design and skill in crafts that is interactive. They know what a door is and the relationship between inside and out, how a cup should work and seem to think completely from the individual users/buyers/owners point of view. It is designed with people in mind, as opposed diametrically to the Chinese Urban Planning approach to design which is generally imbued with Confucian meaning, but so goddamned big you can only appreciate it from space.
It is quite common that new Chinese blocks will be planned with Feng Shui in mind, but also that their plan would be in the shape of a particular Chinese character, say for Fortune or Happiness. However, unless you flew to work each day by helicopter or plane there is no way in hell you could distinguish this appartment block as meaning anything other than more of the same. From the ground they just pound you down, dwarfing you.
Anyway, Mai Loc had made friends with a Norwegian couple 4 years previously who had returned to Vietnam numerous occassions after. They encouraged his work and this year he was invited to an international exhibition of photography in a town Norway. All expenses trip paid for a month. He is really delighted, but fairly pissed off at the amount of bureaucracy he had to go through to get a visa, even on the foot of an invitation from the Mayor of the city. His visa application weighed nearly half a kilo (450gms to be precise). It is hard to see how he will be able to develop his skills and artistry particularly if he cant study, or perhaps even more practically apprentice with other photographers. All the arts seem young again in Vietnam. Rude and round and unoriginal, like trying to repaint renaissance masterpieces all over again, to somehow garner back some of the glory from the past, but in the end only sullying the original by coat tailing its reputation rather than emulating its craft.
I hope that they put some better stress on education in Vietnam. In my mind they have a latent ability in creativity. At the moment they merely ape what is already there, not unlike the Japanese perhaps, a generation ago. But whereas the Chinese, Malay, Korean and Taiwanese have all to a greater or lesser degree copied (sorry bench-marked) the Japanese, the Vietnamese for me are the ones who seem that maybe they could lead SE asia creatively rather than industrially. Who's to know? A couple of design schools and exchanges could go a long way indeed down here.
Foreigners settled here do tend to bemoan the lack of initiative or creativity of the people though. They are not particularly reknowned for coming up with innovative or original ideas or solutions. However I hope that this is more a legacy of Communist indoctrination rather than inherent. It doenst strike me as such though....
hmmmmm.........
We met a lot of people, one of whom was an amazing Cyclo driver, one of the myriad of former South Vietnamese Army who were out of a job and essentially out of the picture for good after the liberation fo Saigon. Net result is that most of these guys and their families, the ones in particular who stayed, are seemingly the ones running street kitchens and cyclo drivers of the city. In two years time they will be reducing the number of cyclo drivers to just 50 registered drivers from the thousands now. Generally speaking the Cyclos represent the poorest of the poor in Vietnam, and the municipal government is wiping out the trades and main income for hundreds maybe thousands of Saigonese in one fell swoop. Not very much in Vietnam (or anywhere) is equitable. He doesn't know what he will do when it comes to it. He is lucky enough in that he picked up decent english in the army and can ply a decent trade among tourists. But not for much longer. He had friends in the States who asked him to leave with him, but hedidnton account of his family. To protect them from the regime accusing them of being a family of collaborators with a traitor son.
Speaking of the regime, we met a Party Member (I assume) in a restaurant in Hue, who was head of the districts' Education Board. We had an interesting enough conversation, but all he was really interested in was what budget we had for travelling. It was an annoying encounter but full of insight. I was telling him that I dont think China is a very good model for Vietnam, but that is the way Vietnam is heading. Primary School is free, but secondary is around $42 per month, and university is about $67 per month. The average wage is about $40 per month. For me from afar and particularly from my Irish perspective, education is the only way up for most people,and beyond that immigration. But it is still well beyond the means of most people.
Mai Loc is a budding photographer from Nha Trang. We bough a couple of his small prints. His stuff is really good. He has overcome many technical difficulties, and more practical difficulties. For example he prints B&W on colour paper (so the quality is grained) because B&W photographic paper is impossible to come by in Vietnam, and ordering it from abroad isn't worth the heartache in a country where customs and excise just love to open boxes that arrive from Europe. There are seemingly quite a few budding artists around nowadays in Vietnam. We met a few sculptors in Hoi An and Chau Doc on the Cambodian border. There was an absolutely fantastic painter whose work we saw in Hanoi - Tran Thanh. He was selling pieces for thousand, but I reckon they were abargain for what ele I have seen selling for thousands in Europe.
I feel perhaps that more than anything else there is a resurgence in self expression, particularly artistic in Vietnam. Although the plastic and painted arts have a long long way to go in terms of subject and invention (the oil paintings and sculptures are generally terrible, though there are some gems), the technique and ability really seems latent in Vietnamese culture, right through from the architecture to the street kitchens. Some of the expression is no doubt borrowed from french modernism and earlier, but the way they have subsequently developed it is quite interesting and they really have a sense of design and skill in crafts that is interactive. They know what a door is and the relationship between inside and out, how a cup should work and seem to think completely from the individual users/buyers/owners point of view. It is designed with people in mind, as opposed diametrically to the Chinese Urban Planning approach to design which is generally imbued with Confucian meaning, but so goddamned big you can only appreciate it from space.
It is quite common that new Chinese blocks will be planned with Feng Shui in mind, but also that their plan would be in the shape of a particular Chinese character, say for Fortune or Happiness. However, unless you flew to work each day by helicopter or plane there is no way in hell you could distinguish this appartment block as meaning anything other than more of the same. From the ground they just pound you down, dwarfing you.
Anyway, Mai Loc had made friends with a Norwegian couple 4 years previously who had returned to Vietnam numerous occassions after. They encouraged his work and this year he was invited to an international exhibition of photography in a town Norway. All expenses trip paid for a month. He is really delighted, but fairly pissed off at the amount of bureaucracy he had to go through to get a visa, even on the foot of an invitation from the Mayor of the city. His visa application weighed nearly half a kilo (450gms to be precise). It is hard to see how he will be able to develop his skills and artistry particularly if he cant study, or perhaps even more practically apprentice with other photographers. All the arts seem young again in Vietnam. Rude and round and unoriginal, like trying to repaint renaissance masterpieces all over again, to somehow garner back some of the glory from the past, but in the end only sullying the original by coat tailing its reputation rather than emulating its craft.
I hope that they put some better stress on education in Vietnam. In my mind they have a latent ability in creativity. At the moment they merely ape what is already there, not unlike the Japanese perhaps, a generation ago. But whereas the Chinese, Malay, Korean and Taiwanese have all to a greater or lesser degree copied (sorry bench-marked) the Japanese, the Vietnamese for me are the ones who seem that maybe they could lead SE asia creatively rather than industrially. Who's to know? A couple of design schools and exchanges could go a long way indeed down here.
Foreigners settled here do tend to bemoan the lack of initiative or creativity of the people though. They are not particularly reknowned for coming up with innovative or original ideas or solutions. However I hope that this is more a legacy of Communist indoctrination rather than inherent. It doenst strike me as such though....
hmmmmm.........
