Gun immune

I no longer react to the sight of a gun. I glance over it like I would a typical accessory--say, a watch or a scarf. There it is. Check. That one is an interesting color or shape. Etc, etc.

I no longer associate them with their design or purpose--which is great when I am stepping over them in the cafeteria or standing in line with one pointing back at me; however, it is not so great when I pull up to work to two Iraqi military standing in the way of my entrance.

Or when I read a sign and don't even blink until the person next to me starts to laugh.

Supporting the Troops

Vietnam does not want you to let you go

The Hanoi airport has to be the most confusing place I have ever been. For example, the departure information for your flights reads to check-in at "Area A" and "Area A" does not have a sign ANYWHERE designating it as "Area A", so what do you do?

Step 1: Go to one side of the Airport (through throngs and throngs of people flying both domestic and international who do NOT MOVE OUT OF THE WAY AND WILL ACTUALLY CLIMB OVER YOUR CART AND STEP ON YOUR BAGS TO GET IN FRONT OF YOU AHHHH!)
Step 2: See there is no counter for your flight.
Step 3: Curse and maybe accidentally scare kids
Step 4: Go to the other side of the airport (get more and more aggressive about getting through the crazy people who apparently like to hang out in airports and then decide to move only when sweaty, irritated girl decides she wants to get through).
Step 5: See there are no signs for your flight
Step 6: Go outside to calm down and maybe fling yourself into oncoming traffic
Step 7: Repeat

The entryway for the departure gates is HIDDEN. I. kid. you. not. UNDER THE STAIRS. Where more non-flying people like to hang out.

This picture should do my last hour of hell a bit of justice:


My friends, you cannot see the arrow on the left clearly, but these are two signs, saying the same f'ing thing, POINTING AT EACH OTHER. I finally pinned a poor woman to the ground and demanded she show me where in the hell to go...and maybe sweated on her...a bit...on accident...sorry, nice lady. Mama needs a drink.

It Ain't No Voodoo What Vu Do

I am losing my steam with SE Asia...especially traveling alone and have now given myself permission to spend most of my last day here, sitting in a cafe and not running around in the heat looking for the next souvenir or snapshot.

I am back in Vietnam, but in Hanoi this time. My first night back was spent sitting next to a lake eating whole crabs and drinking beer with a strange little man named Vu, who decided he would take a shot and try to woo me on the way home. He was tiny, but very persistant in his attempts to grab my hand, try to kiss me, and glom onto me any way he possibly could. I would push him away and back he would come, so close I had difficulty walking. Push again and get him a couple of feet away...milliseconds later, he was breathing in my ear that he needed a place to sleep.

And maybe I'm getting old, but this crap hasn't happened to me in years, and I was trying to think back about how I used to handle these types of situations. I vaguely remember such moments where I would try to balance their self-esteem and my own personal safety, forgiving them for their drunkeness, and politely walk away again and again. Sometimes, I would even laugh it off as if they were just clowning around to allow them to save their last shreds of diginity. But as I said, I must be getting old, because I just finally flicked him in the nuts as hard as I could and kept walking...SO much less time-consuming in the long run.

Laos

So, I just spent two days in the capital of Laos, Vientiane. And what I learned? I am so glad you asked.

I learned that there are many things about travel that sound like such great concept. Namely, French influence. I mean..what is there not to love about the idea? The architecture! Fabulous! The food! Divine and rich! But in actuality, I usually just get annoyed at the balconies on dilapidated buildings and eating pate' in 100 degree heat. So, Vientiane...it was charming and nice, but a bit too frenchy for this girl. Also, the Mekong flooded while I was there, so everywhere I stepped I heard "squish" and prayed that I would not repeat my muddy experience in Cambodia.

My Two Days in Cambodia (or why not to wear white pants during rainy season)

I love Cambodia...well, the little piece I have seen of it in the past 24 hours. The people...good...the sights...amazing...the weather...eh...that part we don't need to focus on--it is rainy season after all, and my day was for the most part--clear and gorgeous.

A guy named San drove me in last night from the airport on his scooter for $2. We got soaked and muddy when it started to rain on the way in; however, I knew at that moment, I wanted to see Siem Reap from the back of a scooter and not the inside of a car, so I hired him for a whopping $15 to drive me around today. He drove me to six different sites, and we covered about 40 total kilometers of road. Needless to say, my ass is killing me.

Speaking of my ass. I put on a comfy pair of white capris today for my adventure, and at the first temple, I promptly wiped out in the mud. When I say 'wiped out' it really does not do the spectacle justice. Somehow I got mud on my forehead, the entirety of my backside, the tops of my feet, and one shin. I really don't know how I did not get my camera or my bag muddy, but I will take it.

Anyways. Enough talk. More pictures.

My trip to Vietnam...

...described in just one picture: