Long overdue

I have been caught up in coming home and haven't thought to upload my last photos from the trip. I also lost my memory card reader somewhere in Vietnam.

Everything I heard about Hanoi was correct. It was definitely my favorite city. It felt very European.

A cyclo ride--sort of scary in Hanoi traffic but no worse than crossing the street on foot.



We couldn't actually take pictures at Ho Chi Minh's mausoleum, but this is on the grounds. His body is very well preserved because he travels to Russia twice a year for maintenance.

On the way to Ninh Binh we stopped at a temple and I got a picture with this particularly well dressed buffalo.

View from the boats in Ninh Binh

One of our boat paddlers. He knew how to work his business because he asked us for a tip even before our boat trip was over.


This is one way to paddle

Temple of Literature in Hanoi

We had to carry these conical hats through 3 different airports and on three different flights since they don't pack. Almost everyone on the Air France flight from Hanoi to Bangkok had a few hats with them. The hats made it fine until Atlanta customs, where a CBP official pulled me aside to check the status of these "agricultural products." Of course, they were fine. When I got home I realized that I'd brought in an apple and a banana from Vietnam and no one noticed, but my straw hats seemed to pose a threat. Typical US airport, I guess.

I'm glad to be home. I learned a lot in my time in Cambodia and Vietnam, but it was not without challenges. Spending a month alone in a third world country really, really tested my patience and revealed that I am far less mild-tempered than I thought. I went running outside when I got home and it was a relief to cross the street without fearing for my life and to run in silence without being offered a tuk-tuk or a moto every few seconds. I can't imagine I will be returning to Cambodia any time soon, but
I wouldn't trade my time there for anything.

Vietnam

Vietnam is a huge contrast to Cambodia. My parents and I spent the first two days in Ho Chi Minh City, which feels like a fancier Phnom Penh with more high rises, motorbikes and a Louis Vuitton store.


Visiting the Viet Cong's hideaway, the Cu Chi tunnels. This place felt like war Disneyworld. It was packed with tourists and they even had an exhibition featuring moving Viet Cong dummies constructing weapons.

My dad and I crawled through some of the tunnels, which are no more than 3 or 4 feet high. I think my dad was ready to get out, as evidenced by his expression here.

tea tea tea tea

Afterwards we visited the War Remnants Museum. It was really biased, but it chronicled the horrors of the Vietnam war really well.


The museum left me pretty depressed. I feel like I have a pretty good grasp of the Vietnam war (or the American war, as it's called here) from everything I've learned in my history courses and the movies I've seen, but I can't reconcile the war photographs I've seen with the bustling, crowded Ho Chi Minh City and the tourist-laden Cu Chi tunnels. I wonder if people will be visiting Iraq and Afghanistan in 35 years.
I also saw a club in HCMC called Apocalypse Now which struck me as totally bizarre. All I could imagine was that they must play hits like The Doors' "The End" nonstop.

After thinking about the war and being in polluted HCMC, Hoi An has been a beautiful reprieve.

UNESCO made Hoi An a World Heritage Site in 1999, and it was virtually unharmed during the War. This is the Japanese bridge between the Japanese and Chinese parts of the Old Town.

Final days in Cambodia

My parents arrived in Phnom Penh:



My dad really wanted a picture of me and this friendly monk at the festival

so excited for the festival!

I couldn't breathe in the top

Master Kong Nay

Cambodian Youth Arts Benefit Concert

Last night Cambodian Living Arts hosted a benefit concert for the upcoming festival. The concert featured songs from composer and Royal University of Fine Arts professor Him Sophy's opera, Where Elephants Weep. The opera is based on West Side Story but with a modern Cambodian plot and Cambodian music. The songs were amazing and I wish I had seen the whole production. It premiered two years ago.




I got drafted into bartending at the pre-concert cocktail party:

Phnom Penh Hash

I started running in February 2010. I had never been much of an athlete before then, and I still don't consider myself one, but I have come to really enjoy running. I spent a lot of time browsing through my Lonely Planet Cambodia travel guide and found information about running in Phnom Penh with the Hash House Harriers. Because the city streets here aren't very hospitable to running and I don't like the gym (despite my membership at The Place, the super posh gym of the Khmer elite), I decided to try out the Hash my first Sunday here. I loved it immediately.

Every Sunday I've been here I've joined Australians, Brits, Americans, Cambodians and ex-pats and travelers from all over the world to run six miles through the Cambodian countryside. It's hot and difficult, but there is no encouragement like little Khmer children laughing and calling out "Hello! How are you!"

Yesterday I received my honorary Hash name, which means I am officially initiated into the worldwide Hash House Harriers. My name is "Legover"--a reference to my flexibility party trick.


There is always a lot of singing and beer drinking when the run is finished

Me and my new Hash friend Kristyn (from Missouri!) receiving our Hash names

Yes, those are toilet seats



Delightful post run dinner

Doused in beer and sweat but happy to be initiated!

I'm so glad that I participated in the Hash. All of my connections here in Cambodia outside of my work came from it. It is nice to come to a foreign place and immediately feel welcome, as I did when I joined the Hash three weeks ago. I'll definitely continue whenever I'm abroad and looking for a run, friends or both.

Kirirom National Park and Pyongyang Restaurant

Yesterday two friends I met on the Hash run last week, Peter and Eric, invited me to go hiking in Kirirom National Park with them. The park is about two hours outside of Phnom Penh on the road to Sihanoukville. We hiked for 14 miles and my feet were totally destroyed at the end.




I couldn't believe how similar the trails looked to Groton Plantation in South Carolina--pine trees and sandy ground.



My ripped up feet, complete with my scraped leg from trying to leap over a log.

Afterwards we met up with some of their friends for dinner at the only North Korean restaurant in Cambodia, and certainly the only one I've ever heard of. Because the Cambodian government and the North Korean government are close, they allow the restaurant to operate here in Phnom Penh. It is actually run by the North Korean government and all the money you spend there goes directly to Pyongyang. Hence the name, Pyongyang restaurant. It was probably the closest I'll ever get to going to North Korea and the closest I'll ever want to be. All the waitresses are sent from North Korea to work here. Every night they put on a bizarre karaoke performance complete with singing, dancing and music playing. I can only imagine what they're singing about.

There were signs explicitly forbidding cameras so I had to be inconspicuous.


But the waitresses kindly disobeyed Kim Jong-Il and posed for a picture with me.