Whirlwind

I am about to start a chaotic six weeks of travelling, and rather looking forward to it. Starting Sunday, I will co-lead a week-long trip to northeastern Cambodia to close my service with PEPY. Afterwards, I will return to Phnom Penh to meet my good buddy Aaron who is coming over from Japan to travel in Cambodia with me for about a week. Just after he leaves, I'll catch a flight up to Luang Prabang to explore northern Laos and then travel down the Mekong through the heart of Indochina all the way back to Phnom Penh. Time permitting I'd like to jump back into Vietnam for some more kite-surfing, but I'm hoping to be back in North Carolina by the beginning of May so I'll just have to play it by ear.

Hard to believe I've been with PEPY for six months already. Living in Phnom Penh has certainly been a unique experience. I am quite sad to leave behind such great friends and co-workers; not since the Peace Corps have I been surrounded by such a socially and environmentally aware group of people. But, with such exciting months ahead, it's hard to feel too sentimental, especially as I am quite sure I will be seeing these PEPY folks again, whether it be in Cambodia, the US, Finland, Italy, Tanzania, or wherever the zephyrs blow me next...

Hard to leave...

On my final morning in Mui Ne, I found this great cafe overlooking the fishing harbor, a truly gorgeous view. Some local teens were kind enough to snap this photo for me...

The Great White Dune of Mui Ne

While in Mui Ne I did a beautiful motorbike ride along the coastline and through the micro-climate desert out to a beautiful white sand dune, seemingly in the middle of nowhere. I arrived about an hour before sunset, and was the only soul there, save a Vietnamese family and two adorable kids that lived on the edge of the dune. Brilliant light in the late afternoon, unlike I had ever seen before...though these photos don't quite capture it.

A Man Named Culture

In Dalat I had a great day mountain biking through the hills, pine forests, and farms just outside of the city with a fun young guide named Hoa, whose name I was never quite able to pronounce correctly. You see, in Vietnamese, there are six different tones; thus a single syllable can be pronounced six different ways (ascending, descending, etc.) and has at least six different meanings.



In the photo, my guide explains the different tones and meanings of the syllable "Hoa", and the diacritical marks which designate each tone when written. While I was barely able to distinguish the sounds of each tone, their importance became quite clear when he explained that "Hoa" can mean "flower", "peace", "fire", "equal", "paint", "disappear", and finally the true meaning of his name, "culture". Exactly what I needed, a guide named Culture.




The biking was perfect, beginning with some challenging ascents on single track trails while climbing a small mountain, then several km of screaming downhill rushes, and capped off by cycling back into the city on a hilly and curvy sealed road through the strawberry and coffee farms. More please!

A Man Named Man

In Dalat there is group of outgoing and witty motorcycle guides, collectively known as the Easy Riders, who do tours around Dalat and the Central Highlands. They are quite easy to spot as they all wear matching blue windbreakers and ride the biggest motorcycles in town, but usually they seem to find the tourists first. One stopped me today as I was walking up the street and with a most impressive sales pitch, invited me to join him for the day. Had I not already made plans to go mountain biking, I most certainly would have but I had to politely decline. However, he gave me his business card and told me to call him if I ever came back to Dalat, which I assured him I would. The first name on the business card read "Nam", which as I learned from the signs on bathroom doors, means "man" in Vietnamese (yep, its man backwards). Just to be sure, I asked him the meaning of his name and he humbly replied, though with small grin, "It's just man." Awesome.

Le Petit Paris

In all my travels, Dalat is the first place I've ever been robbed (on my first night here no less), and yet it is quickly becoming one of my favorite places.

First the bad news, which was more strange than terrible, then the good news.

I'm staying in a quaint hotel on a quiet alley on a hill not far from the center of town. My second floor room has a small balcony and bathroom windows which open to the alley. Last night before going to bed, I locked the balcony door, but left the bathroom window open a bit so as to enjoy the wonderfully cool, fresh air of Dalat(in the 50s last night). I slept soundly without waking until morning. As I was dressing this a.m., I couldn't locate my wallet. So after looking through all my stuff 4 times, I checked the balcony, and saw it lying on the ground, open, next to my sunglasses case. I realized instantly what had happened, and was relieved to remember that I had less than $30, including bills from Thailand, Laos, Cambodia, and Japan that I have collected as souvenirs and always keep with me. All the cash was gone of course, but the thief was kind enough to leave the wallet and the rest of the contents. The sunglasses, too, were still in the case. The thief was defnitely in my room as he took the wallet from my pants pocket, but the sunglasses case he removed from a small bag which contained my iPod, my camera, my Visa card, and a travel billfold with about $50. None of it was taken. Peculiar. I told the woman at reception what had happened, and she just said "Oh wow! That's too bad!" Hopefully tonight I can move to a different room, just to be safe...

Otherwise, Dalat is beautiful. Located in the central highlands,,the city is lush with vegetation--everywhere you look there are flowers and trees and vegetable gardens. According to the Lonely Planet, it was once known as Le Petit Paris--complete with an Eiffel Tower replica, dozens and dozens of chic cafes, and lively, winding and hilly streets, its not hard to see why. I rented a bicycle this morning and rode around Xuan Huong Lake on the city center's edge and the gorgeous "Flower Park" which despite a few kitsch features, was most pleasant. Afterwards, I explored the winding and hilly streets, turning at whim and discovering some lovely views of the city and its vegetable farms, nestled quite perfectly into the hills. I was unfortunately driven inside this afternoon by the rain, but it gave me chance to check out the market and write this blog at the internet cafe...

Tomorrow, single track mountain biking in the forests outside of Dalat!

Home again, at the Phuong Linh Guesthouse

For the past few days, I've been staying at the same guesthouse as the first time I visited Mui Ne. The mama-san, who speaks just a bit more English than I do Vietnamese, is absolutely wonderful--I am not sure if she remembers me or not, but nonetheless she is treating me like a lost-and-found son. When I arrived, she took me behind the house, out of earshot of the then-checking-out Vietnamese guests, and said in entertaining whispery English, "They, Vietnamese, 8 dollar, you you 5 dollar", all the while putting her finger over her mouth as if we were in on a great secret. I made the motion of zipping my lips, and she broke out a beaming smile. We were able to exchange names in Vietnamese, but she continues to address me, in a most endearing tone, as "you you" which I quite like. At night she all but tucks me in, making sure my mosquito net is sealed around the bed, the fan is oscillating properly, and even teaches me a few words like "sleep well" in Vietnamese. Indeed.

She also lent me the family motorbike, in fact the same motorbike I had last time with the same "I love you" heart-shaped keychain (strange what I remember...).

This afternoon I came home from the beach, bought myself a beer across the street, and started to go to my room. However, Mama-san and her daughter were sitting on the steps removing fresh mussels from their tiny shells with little thorns, and invited me over. I tried a few times, fumbling with the thorn and the mussels, so she just decided to do it for me, removing 10-12 in the time it took me to manage one. The mussels were scrumptious, tasting mostly like the sea but with a bit of sand for some crunch--a perfect beer snack! I asked what the word for "delicious" is--not sure I have the tones right but it sounds something like "Rock on!"

After a game of 3 on 3 beach soccer with some local kids and a twilight ocean swim, I returned to my guesthouse for a shower. Just after dressing there was a knock at the door--I opened it to find Mama-san waiting with an enormous plate of chilled watermelon, which was perhaps the sweetest I had ever tasted. Rock on again.

Life is good.

Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

After about a dozen hours of instruction (mostly learning to control the kite), several gallons of swallowed seawater, a not-so-small dent in my bank account, learning a lot of new lingo, and shedding a layer of skin off my sunburnt shoulders, I finally got up on the board today, if only briefly. If there exists a more enjoyable or more intense sport, I know not what it entails. Kite-surfing combines so many elements, and not just the sea, sun, and sand, but of body coordination too--the hands, arms, legs, eyes, and mind all need to be concentrating on different things for everything to come together. But once you learn to synchronize everythingand the wind is zipping you across the water, the rush is incredible, like nothing I've ever felt. With snowboarding, you can just point down the mountain and go. With wakeboarding, you have the boat to get you going. With kiting, you've got to figure out how to harness the wind, and make it take you where you want to go.

Hopefully after another day riding tomorrow, I can describe further...right now I just feel giddy!