Tomb Strolling in Hue

Hue is our next destination. The old capital of Vietnam kingdom, chosen hundred of years ago because of its strategic location right in the middle of dragonish geography of Vietnam. After a serious delay courtesy of Jetstar, we landed on a small airport of Da Nang and continue our journey to Hue by car. Flying is just not as fun as driving through the land especially if it was as scenic as the trip we took. Our driver, a silent Driving Miss Daisy type, was not much of a company but he was being complimented by his sister side kick, a bubbly Vietnamese girl whose name just lost me completely. She talked and asked me so many questions along the three hours trip including ‘why you no marry’ to ‘how rich are you’. Even coming from a country where curiosity toward stranger was the norm, I still found it rather winchingly uncomfortable. Nobody ever asked me ‘how rich are you’ back home. Along the up and down hilly ride, I saw many small shrines by the road which apparently to honor people who died on the road which was not such a great surprise considering how they drive their bike there. The big question is: if they build a shrine every time somebody dies, will there come a day when the hill would just turn to be a big hill of road kill shrines?

Arriving in Hue at night, starving and dusty, we were welcomed by the owner of the Huenino hostel we stayed in that night. Wait, did I say hostel? It was better than hotel. Try to name one hotel where you were welcomed with cold towel, orange juice, hot soup and a cake upon your arrival and enter a spotlessly clean room with fragrant sheet. That night I had a short but memorable meeting with a couchsurfer, a sweet and by far the best English speaker I’ve encountered, Ngan (spelled ‘Ngeng’). She told me about her life, her work, Vietnamese war and what she dreams about to be. I could see Vietnam in her. She’s growing to be a cultivated English speaker, eager to welcome change and development and more tourists and although scarred by the war and at times uncertain to step forward, will find its way to be big.

We joined a half day tour to visit some of the tombs scattered around Hue. I hate to join this kind of tour but considering the limited time we have, few stops to incense stick stall ormartial art performance had to be accepted. Tomb of Minh Mang and Tomb of Khai Dinh are two of the best examples. If you have a limited time, do visit those two because all of the tombs are similar. Although they are called tombs no actually bodies of past emperors were buried there. The compound has lakes and leafy gardens to sit down and enjoy the view (which was clearly out of the questions for me at that time since the tour leader already waving his flag around). The renovation was partially done so it was nice to see the actual form before the flashy paint job covered it all.

Tomb of Khai Dinh was in fact quite recently made and therefore more “Europeanized” than the others. It was located on the top of a hill so it was quite a hike to go up. The Emperor was guarded in his after life by stone knights, ministers and general. The white stone used in the facade has grown black over time and serious restoration is needed but it retains some of the charm.

Before leaving for Hoi An, we managed to try the local cuisine. We tried bánh bēo, a canape of sticky rice, shredded shrimp and crunchy pork skin, eaten with a drop of fish sauce. A special mention need to be made for Vietnamese fish sauce. It was good, so good in fact, that I have adapted the Vietnamese habit of adding fish sauce in anything that I ate during my stay. I loved it so much I even took a bottle of home along with the instant pho, soy sauce and dry spring roll skin.

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Rediscovering Saigon

Call me patronizing or ignorant but I didn’t have any notion or high expectation about Vietnam. All I know of the South East Asian country was what American made it to be in films, books and Miss Saigon. Only later I found out that the Vietnam War was called the American War by the Vietnamese or ‘Vietnamee’, as they called themselves in English. The Tour of Duty was consisted of four cities, recommended by friends: Ho Chi Minh – Da Nang – Hue – Hoi An (in that order). We sleepily landed at night, Mum tailing me. Tan Son Nhat Airport was better than expected, better than our lousy “international airport” in Jakarta. It was Saturday night when we landed and have motorcycles honked us all the way to our check-in. We were supposed to stay in Saigon Mini Hotel, reviewed to be a quiet place, far from the madding crowd. For reason I can’t understand until today, we’re being moved to another hotel, which is next to the Saigon Mini other branch. This one is located exactly on the tourist street: Pham Ngu Lao.

The whole street reminds me of Bangkok’s Khao San Road with more motorcycles and incessant honking. The sellers are rather quiet and not as pushy as the one I encountered in Kuta. Bars, beers, backpackers from all ages and destinations meet and mingle there. Soon, we were in a serious mission of finding the best phở, which was found few blocks away. The portion was generous, the smell divine and the beef broth was so tasty we gulped them down like water. The incessant street noise lullabied us to sleep, much to our surprise. It must be the phở doing its magic.

Ho Chi Minh or romantically, Saigon, reminds me of Paris. An uglier step sister but created by similar DNA marks. Wide avenue, green small parks, “Notre Dame” Cathedral, even French names on some of the streets and especially the baguette sandwich or re-baptized as bánh mì. I love how the old buildings are still actively in used. The beautifully preserved post office with art deco tiles is definitey my favorite building. I rather wish I have longer time to explore the city and try all the food. Alas, Hue and Hoi An awaits.

Tips #1 bring dollars, big and small note. Hotel gave high exchange rate if you pay in dong.

Tips #2 try to take well marked and good reputation taxi such as Vinasun or Mai Linh.

Tips #3 if you ever find yourself stranded in Tan Son Nhat with few hours to kill, go to the Parkson mall across the airport for better shops and better price eateries. You can even watch a movie in the cinema there.

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This Weekend Will Be..

funfuckintastic.

Pardon the f-word. Can't help it. October has always been my 'do-not-disturb-me' month since 2007. Ubud Writers and Festival is the sole reason. This lit groupie has been going around the island in a rampant buying trip to get as many books as possible and have them signed later. I will be in Ubud on Saturday and Sunday, attending as many session as possible and jotting down the smart lines those authors throwing to the audience.

I'm especially super excited to meet and hear from these authors:

Trinity 'The Naked Traveler' (whose blog I've been reading for few years about her adventures or misadventures as the rare breed of Indonesian backpackers. Her writing has always been fun, inspiring, enjoyable and self-deprecating)

Agustinus Wibowo (another breed of Indonesian travel writer/photographer who has a deep love and interest in Middle East countries)

Junot Diaz (I've only read one book of his but it's enough to made me in love with his work)

Alberto Manguel (the Father of All Bookish People and Thing. I hope they will sell his books because it's been almost impossible to find those).

Andrea Hirata (the Indonesian literary wunderkind who one day just started to write and writing is what he has been doing since then. A musical show based on his book just recently performed in Singapore).

and the others.... talented writers, poets, musician, artists who comes from the farthest corner of this globe and made it to Bali. I will see you all later.

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How to Be a Good Tourist in Bali

Dear fellow Indonesian,

First of all, please don’t take this open letter too seriously. Treat it as a loving, concerned letter your wise Tante Dewi might sent you after she heard how you misbehaved in your vacation. Have you ever heard of a complain made by your friend who just came back from Bali with his family: “Oh the Balinese are awful! They ignored us completely when we ordered and served the bules first even when we obviously arrived earlier”. I can’t deny it happened before and it will happen again. You can blame the post-colonial mentality or you can ask that friend of yours this question: “what did you do to get such treatment?”

You see, born and bred in this small island, I’ve seen you, my dearest fellow Indonesian, here annually, repeatedly. My brother even joked that there are 3 kinds of citizenship in Bali during high season: WNI, WNA and W.N.L (based on your car plates get it?). It seems like some sort of a national reflex in which Bali will be the answer whenever someone asked ‘where should we go for the next holiday’. I totally understand the urge of not thinking during holiday. Aren’t we all just love to not thinking of where to go next, how to get there or where to stay? No research needed. Just pack, bring your Nintendo gaming kids and voila, you’ve arrived in Bali. It just can’t be easier than that... except there are thousands more who thinks like you. Hence, the shocking, horrible, congested traffic from airport to Legian, where you’ve booked your hotel. Even locals and expats alike, are either hiding or fleeing the island whenever this happens.

The first best advice I could give you, one comerade to the other, is this: do not come here during high season or God forbid, peak season. You’ll have to pay extra for the flight and the hotel. You’ll have to queue in every porkish restaurants you’ve planned to eat and trust me, licking your pork ribs while being surrounded by impatient pork vultures who wish they’re beside you sitting and licking, is one of the most unpleasant eating experience you could have in your life, as experienced by yours truly recently.

Second advice: go outside Kuta for real Bali experience. Yes, yes, I understand it is very hard to come to Bali and not posing in front of Hard Rock Hotel. It’s unimaginable. It’s like going to Paris and not see the Eiffel Tower, or some sort. Kindly know that Kuta is not Bali. It’s a No Man’s Land of drunk Australian hipsters who barely legal to consume alcohol or first time backpackers who didn’t know any better. There’s way more of Bali than that. Hire a driver and stay far away from the crowd, that’s where the real Bali is. Go north, south or east. Hike, bike, swim and walk. Shut down your BlackBerry for a while and stop updating your Facebook status. Take the iPad away from your kids. Be a family. Chances are you’ll meet some of the nicest locals you will ever meet in you travel.

We know now that you’re a good tipper, easy spender and your wives shops for the whole neighborhood. Yes, we learned our lesson not to just counting on the Australians since that awful thing happened on 2002. We learned to bend our rules and put up with ten people staying in just one room. But really, it is so easy to earn our respect (you don’t even need to raise your voice and waving your platinum card). We couldn’t care less how much money you have back home, that’s not how we judge you. When you’re in a crowded restaurant, please wait to be seated, lower your intonation and volume then wait patiently. We’ll come. A nice, simple gesture like calling the waiter ‘bli’ or the waitress ‘mbok’ will get our attention. We tend to serve you even faster if you managed to not wearing the barong or bintang shirt. FYI, no self respected Balinese will wear those outside their home.

Bali is shrinking. There are more villas and less rice field. God knows what will happen in a decade. We might be known as The Island of Villas instead of temples. One thing for sure, you should know that as Balinese we have a high pride. We can put up with anything: Dutch, terrorists, Bakrie. We’re being called ‘noble savages’ all those years ago, not for nothing. We can smile our widest smile to you and ignore you completely if you’re being rude at us. One thing we can’t put up is when you’re being disrespectful because we do take it personally. After all, being on holiday doesn’t necessarily means we also let our manners on vacation either, aren’t we?

Sincerely yours,

SapiMalas

p.s: This is my personal observation. All the characters and places mentioned are real. However any resemblance to actual person is purely intentional (you know who you are, you rude bastard who cuts line at my queue and staring at me while I nibble on my pork ribs).

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