FINALLY the weekend we've been planning for three weeks arrived!
Our mission was to surprise a certain Ms. Lisa with a birthday party.
One of the best things (actually THE best thing) about living in Suncheon is all of the other people who live here.
Three weeks ago the Amandas decided that Lisa needed to have the strangest surprise party anyone has ever heard of. Our theme was "In like a lion, out like a lamb" because Lisa's actual birthday is in March.
Over a hundred facebook msgs later, sent between twenty different people, we finally had the details ironed out.
Lisa's party included:
Lindsey:) (it was her birthday that week as well so the party was for both of them)
Cardboard cutouts of sheep and lions to be worn around the neck
Party poppers
Three birthday cakes
Various other delicious foods and beverages
A prom backdrop for picture taking
A huge card for Lindsey (Lizzie surprised us all with her mad crafting skills)
A slightly smaller card for Lisa with a pic of her from 5am in Cambodia blown up to mad proportions
Lots of presents!
Pre-party night (Friday) Lindsey slept over at my house because she lives across town and we had to wake up at 5:00am.
Wait.
What?
Why so early?
Well, as if a surprise party wasn't enough for one day, we also wanted to go to the cherry blossom festival in Gurye.
The whole town is blanketed in cherry blossom trees. They make gorgeous canopies of white and pink flowers all along the main 6km-long road.
The trees only bloom for two weeks out of the year so the festival is insanely popular. We had to leave on the 6:10am bus to beat the crowds and traffic.
We got to the festival with no trouble at all; apart from accidentaly leaving Norman behind...that was really sad:(
On our second bus we (there were six of us) all had seats on the bus. We were the only foreigners, all of the other passengers were adjummas and halmonis (aunts and grandmothers, old and older ladies). Three stops later fifteen more halmonis boarded the bus. We all gave up our seats and gained instant love. All of these little old ladies were happily chatting us up, completely undeterred by our near-total ignorance of the Korean language. Teeny little hands took our purses and bags. They were placed on bony little laps so we wouldn't have to carry them as we stood.
After we disembarked, we walked down the main road with thousands of Korean tourists. A river ran paralel to the road, so we jumped around on river rocks and had tons of photo opportunities.
Three hours and one kilometre later, we spotted a gazebo further up a hill off the main road. We walked up a million steps until we reached the gazebo (I think I'm turning slightly Korean, my first instinct on seeing a mountain is to climb it. I don't think I had that instinct before I came here).
In the gazebo were two low tables with all sorts of tea accoutrements. A man called us inside in English, "This tea is free!".
Happily we slipped off our shoes and settled on the floor around a table. We peered at all of the different pieces of crockery and tea instruments with interest as we waited to be served.
Upon seeing us staring dumbly, not consuming tea, the man who called to us earlier spoke again, "I am not worker here! You must serve yourself!".
"Ohh" suddenly it didn't seem as if tea consumption would be possible. (I know it sounds like we're INCREDIBLY stupid not to be able to figure out tea, but it was complex!)
Seeing our glassy eyes, the man (Master Ryu- Master because he is a hapkido Master) ordered us to move to the other table.
We obeyed.
There were four women in our group and two men. We sat in a mixed fashion. Master Ryu ordered Will to move so the females were on one side and the males on the other. Master Ryu's brother watched the procedings the other side of the gazebo. We invited him to join us as well.
Then Master Ryu proceded to serve us tea (he was so nice!) We (the females) drank 'woman tea' while the men drank 'red' (what westerners would call 'black') tea.
Our cups were tiny, so we were instructed to drink our tea in one gulp. If we wanted more, we had to put our cups on a wooden slab in the middle of the table, and Master Rye would top us up again.
It was a really beautiful experience- sitting high on a mountain, overlooking thousands of cherry blossom trees, being served tea in a traditional manner by the nicest man and his brother.
Tea came to an abrupt end when the police called Master Ryu and told him that he had to move his car (this was not a big deal: in Korea, motorists have their cell phone numbers on display in their dash so it's easy to call the driver if you need them to move their car).
Less then a minute after the brothers took off down the mountain, the sweetest little four-year old girl (Yuji, we later learned from her mother) approached our table and started chatting away. We smiled at her and told her she was beautiful (that's as far as our Korean went).
Yuji was entranced by Amanda's curly, blonde hair. She joyfully dug her hands in and gently gave Amanda a pony-tail. She was so cute!
The six of us agreed later that our gazebo experience made the 5am wake-up call completely worthwhile.
We left Gurye around 1pm. The line of cars headed towards the festival was at least five kilometres long. Now the 5am wake-up call was definitely worth it!
A couple of hours later I called Lisa and told her that Jodie needed help baking a cake. I asked her if she'd be willing to help.
Lisa agreed.
She came down to my apartment where we waited for Lindsey.
Twenty minutes later I took them to Jodie's.
Lisa entered the apartment first.
We got her good.
The poppers blanketed Jodie's apartment with confetti, and fifteen of Lisa and Lindsey's closet friends were gathered around cheering wearing lions or sheep.
We totally pulled of the weirdest surprise birthday party in history.
What a great day!
Saturday, April 4, 2009
Sunday, March 22, 2009
March 22: Apricot festival
Well kinda. The Korean is Maehwa, which I believe translates more directly into 'Japanese plum' rather then 'apricot', but in any case...
Lisa and I headed off to Hadong, a town forty minutes away by train, to experience this festival.
The whole point is that the Maehwa trees are blooming. It's gorgeous.
It took us a while to figure out how to get to the actual festival, but we eventually took a taxi about three kilometres out of the town.
The festival contained typical festival things: a mini market, street meat, free samples of plum tea, and a whole pig roasting on a spit.
Lisa and I ate lunch on plastic stools at a makeshift restaurant.
We sat down to listen to a nonet of saxophone players.
We were only mildly surprised that it was really saxophone karaoke to hit tunes, like, "Nobody" by the Wondergirls. *shoots self in face, twice*.
We didn't see any taxis around the festival so we decided to walk the 3km back to the train station.
We realized about half way there that we wouldn't make it in time to catch our train.
We weren't terribly concerned about this as another train was leaving three hours later, but when we saw taxis on the side of the road we went to investigate.
The taxis didn't have any drivers in them, but the men directing traffic had on logos similar to the logos on the taxis.
Lisa approached one of the men asked, "taxi?"
Aburptly traffic controllers started running here and there, presumably looking for taxi drivers.
When no one appeared, we smiled at the men who had tried to help us and started to walk away.
"Wait" we were told, as they spoke urgently into their walkie-talkies.
Thirty seconds later we were on our way to the train station in the back of a police car.
I love Korea.
Lisa and I headed off to Hadong, a town forty minutes away by train, to experience this festival.
The whole point is that the Maehwa trees are blooming. It's gorgeous.
It took us a while to figure out how to get to the actual festival, but we eventually took a taxi about three kilometres out of the town.
The festival contained typical festival things: a mini market, street meat, free samples of plum tea, and a whole pig roasting on a spit.
Lisa and I ate lunch on plastic stools at a makeshift restaurant.
We sat down to listen to a nonet of saxophone players.
We were only mildly surprised that it was really saxophone karaoke to hit tunes, like, "Nobody" by the Wondergirls. *shoots self in face, twice*.
We didn't see any taxis around the festival so we decided to walk the 3km back to the train station.
We realized about half way there that we wouldn't make it in time to catch our train.
We weren't terribly concerned about this as another train was leaving three hours later, but when we saw taxis on the side of the road we went to investigate.
The taxis didn't have any drivers in them, but the men directing traffic had on logos similar to the logos on the taxis.
Lisa approached one of the men asked, "taxi?"
Aburptly traffic controllers started running here and there, presumably looking for taxi drivers.
When no one appeared, we smiled at the men who had tried to help us and started to walk away.
"Wait" we were told, as they spoke urgently into their walkie-talkies.
Thirty seconds later we were on our way to the train station in the back of a police car.
I love Korea.
March 13: And so ends week two of semester one.
I woke up today feeling like Saturday, which is an awesome feeling when you have to work!
On Friday I only teach two classes:
9:00-9:30 Grade 6
9:50-10:30 Grade 5
I love my grade six class, but I let them push me around too much last semester. Today I was playing a game with them, but they didn't like it.
"Different game teacher!"
"Hangman!"
"Twenty-five!"
"Typhoon"
Last semester I would have catered to them, but the new me said "no".
They groaned and whined.
I sat at the teacher's desk and stared at them. My usually boisterous class were stunned into an awkward can-hear-a-pin-drop-silence. I ALMOST broke. They're REALLY nice kids, and I've done what they've wanted before. I ALMOST said, "ok, let's play hangman".
But I didn't.
I waited.
"Teacher...game okay" one brave soul ventured, breaking the heavy silence.
"Yes, yes" murmer the other students in agreement, all looking at me with concern.
"Alright" I said brightly. We played my game (which was basically just a speaking exercise, which is why they didn't like it). They participated very well.
Several students made a point to tell me that the class was 'fun'. And the sweetest little child chased me into the hall, "teacher, game, no no no, sorry!" she apologized for her class earnestly.
I smiled at her and waved good-bye.
I didn't lose my temper.
I didn't let them push me around.
And I won teaching!
On Friday I only teach two classes:
9:00-9:30 Grade 6
9:50-10:30 Grade 5
I love my grade six class, but I let them push me around too much last semester. Today I was playing a game with them, but they didn't like it.
"Different game teacher!"
"Hangman!"
"Twenty-five!"
"Typhoon"
Last semester I would have catered to them, but the new me said "no".
They groaned and whined.
I sat at the teacher's desk and stared at them. My usually boisterous class were stunned into an awkward can-hear-a-pin-drop-silence. I ALMOST broke. They're REALLY nice kids, and I've done what they've wanted before. I ALMOST said, "ok, let's play hangman".
But I didn't.
I waited.
"Teacher...game okay" one brave soul ventured, breaking the heavy silence.
"Yes, yes" murmer the other students in agreement, all looking at me with concern.
"Alright" I said brightly. We played my game (which was basically just a speaking exercise, which is why they didn't like it). They participated very well.
Several students made a point to tell me that the class was 'fun'. And the sweetest little child chased me into the hall, "teacher, game, no no no, sorry!" she apologized for her class earnestly.
I smiled at her and waved good-bye.
I didn't lose my temper.
I didn't let them push me around.
And I won teaching!
March 5: I'm definitely in Korea
The kind of day that is possible to have in Korea, is not possible to have in Canada. I have had "what the Hell?" moments in Canada, but I have NEVER had a whole, "what the Hell?" day.
I can tell when fellow foreigners have had a WTH day. The symptoms include (but are not limited to): excessive giggling, verbal diarrhea, twitching, eyes opened wide, and severe mood swings.
Today I went to my Thurs/Fri school for the first time since late December. I've always felt like an outcast at this school, but today I was determined to go in and make friends. Half the teachers are new, and nobody is teaching the same grade as last year, so it's a good time to take a new approach. I went in smiley and energetic.
I sat in my normal seat in the vice-principal's office. I was promptly told to move. I will now sit in an abandonned classroom, totally alone (damn, makeing friends is going to be harder this way).
My Thursday timetable is as follows:
9:00-9:40 Grade 3
9:50-10:30 Grade 4
11:00-11:40 Grade 5
11:50-12:30 Grade 6
It's a MARATHON of a day, considering MTW I teach five consecutive periods of the SAME grade (and therefore same lesson plan). I was feeling hyper and exhausted when I feel into my chair at 12:30. Unfortunately, they needed to clean my abandonned classroom.
"Please move"
This was getting ridiculous! I went back to the Vice-principal's office and sat at a small table a mile away from everybody else. I did a buttload of photocopying (who knows when I'll be permitted entrance into the V.P's office again?) Some time later the newest, youngest, male teacher approached me.
"Jennifer"
Yes?
"Follow me"
Ok
"Do you speak Korean?"
no
"Oh"
With that, this tratorious man led me directly into the principal's office, and then left me alone with the principal!
The principal NEVER showed ANY interest in me last year!
He motioned me to take a seat, offered me a vitimin C drink, sat directly across from me, and started peppering me with questions, all in Korean.
Every so often, he'd pause and ask, "mola?" (essentially, "you don't understand?") and I'd reply, "ne, mollayo" (that's right, I don't understand).
Then he started saying 'trouble' (in English) over and over again.
"Trouble?" I asked
"Trouble" he replied, and then spelt it out T-R-O-U-B-L-E in case that was my issue.
"Trouble, what?" I asked. He nodded gravely and then took out an English textbook.
He flipped open to a page with tons of entries that looked like this:
apple [a'pul] 아풀 삭과
He proceded to read me about ten entries, underlining with his red pen as he went. All the while, he was looking at me expectingly and talking away in Korean.
FINALLY I had enough "chakkanmanyo" (wait a minute) I called as I raced from his office.
I ran into my co-workers room, "Mrs ___" I whined "help me! The principal's trying to talk to me!"
"What!? (she was instantly as alarmed by this prospect as I was) "why does he want to talk to YOU?"
"I don't know" I whined some more. Sighing, she grabbed my hand and pulled me behind her as we ran back to his office.
"Why don't you know Korean!" she scolded as we ran.
Turns out he wanted to know if I thought teaching the students English would be more effective if I wrote in Korean next to any English I put on the board. I was so flustered at this point I asked Mrs ____ to make up an answer. She answered in the negative and that was that. At least half an hour of my life gone to that simple question!
As we leave the office Mrs____ asks me if I want to go to a staff dinner. I'm a bit flambozzled.. but...Well...it IS my goal to make friends....
A half an hour later we're seated in an expensive beef restaurant. I try to figure out how I'm going to tell them I decided to go back to vegetarianism over the break. I am surrounded by beef. Beef liver, beef stomach lining, and other various pieces of beef are all being fried in the middle of the table.
The matter is resolved when a piece of cooked beef is placed directly in front of me, with a demand of, 'eat this'.
"I'm sorry...I decided to be a vegetarian".
"WHAT?!"
The news circles around the table of twenty people like a wild-fire.
The teacher beside me gives a huff and leaves the room.
Every small side dish without any meat is immediately set in a circle around me.
Before I can stop it, they're teaching each other that I am a 'vegetable-ist'.
The teacher beside me returns with a HUGE platter, containing at least six tons of carrot and cucumber sticks. This is placed directly in front of me, 'because I love you'.
What a production.
Later I was telling Mrs ____ about my time in Thailand. I was telling her about the ladyboys, but I had to stop because I was giving her shivers.
She asked me if I knew of Korea's most famous transvestite.
I confessed my ignorance.
"She is married to a man, WHO is THREE YEARS OLDER" (this is a big deal, because in Korea your spouse and friends should be born in the same year as you, give or take one year maximum)
Conspiritually, I leaned in, "do you know, that my mother's husband is *gasp* THIRTEEN years OLDER than my MOTHER!"
If we had been sitting on chairs she would have fallen off hers.
"NOOO" she exclaims with wide eyes "how did they get married!?!"
This news also circles the table. Everyone drops their current conversations to stare at me.
I nod solemnly at all of them. I am speaking the truth.
The dinner was pretty fun over-all.
But still when I burst into Amanda's apartment at 9:30pm, she knew immediately that I had had a "What the Hell?" day.
I can tell when fellow foreigners have had a WTH day. The symptoms include (but are not limited to): excessive giggling, verbal diarrhea, twitching, eyes opened wide, and severe mood swings.
Today I went to my Thurs/Fri school for the first time since late December. I've always felt like an outcast at this school, but today I was determined to go in and make friends. Half the teachers are new, and nobody is teaching the same grade as last year, so it's a good time to take a new approach. I went in smiley and energetic.
I sat in my normal seat in the vice-principal's office. I was promptly told to move. I will now sit in an abandonned classroom, totally alone (damn, makeing friends is going to be harder this way).
My Thursday timetable is as follows:
9:00-9:40 Grade 3
9:50-10:30 Grade 4
11:00-11:40 Grade 5
11:50-12:30 Grade 6
It's a MARATHON of a day, considering MTW I teach five consecutive periods of the SAME grade (and therefore same lesson plan). I was feeling hyper and exhausted when I feel into my chair at 12:30. Unfortunately, they needed to clean my abandonned classroom.
"Please move"
This was getting ridiculous! I went back to the Vice-principal's office and sat at a small table a mile away from everybody else. I did a buttload of photocopying (who knows when I'll be permitted entrance into the V.P's office again?) Some time later the newest, youngest, male teacher approached me.
"Jennifer"
Yes?
"Follow me"
Ok
"Do you speak Korean?"
no
"Oh"
With that, this tratorious man led me directly into the principal's office, and then left me alone with the principal!
The principal NEVER showed ANY interest in me last year!
He motioned me to take a seat, offered me a vitimin C drink, sat directly across from me, and started peppering me with questions, all in Korean.
Every so often, he'd pause and ask, "mola?" (essentially, "you don't understand?") and I'd reply, "ne, mollayo" (that's right, I don't understand).
Then he started saying 'trouble' (in English) over and over again.
"Trouble?" I asked
"Trouble" he replied, and then spelt it out T-R-O-U-B-L-E in case that was my issue.
"Trouble, what?" I asked. He nodded gravely and then took out an English textbook.
He flipped open to a page with tons of entries that looked like this:
apple [a'pul] 아풀 삭과
He proceded to read me about ten entries, underlining with his red pen as he went. All the while, he was looking at me expectingly and talking away in Korean.
FINALLY I had enough "chakkanmanyo" (wait a minute) I called as I raced from his office.
I ran into my co-workers room, "Mrs ___" I whined "help me! The principal's trying to talk to me!"
"What!? (she was instantly as alarmed by this prospect as I was) "why does he want to talk to YOU?"
"I don't know" I whined some more. Sighing, she grabbed my hand and pulled me behind her as we ran back to his office.
"Why don't you know Korean!" she scolded as we ran.
Turns out he wanted to know if I thought teaching the students English would be more effective if I wrote in Korean next to any English I put on the board. I was so flustered at this point I asked Mrs ____ to make up an answer. She answered in the negative and that was that. At least half an hour of my life gone to that simple question!
As we leave the office Mrs____ asks me if I want to go to a staff dinner. I'm a bit flambozzled.. but...Well...it IS my goal to make friends....
A half an hour later we're seated in an expensive beef restaurant. I try to figure out how I'm going to tell them I decided to go back to vegetarianism over the break. I am surrounded by beef. Beef liver, beef stomach lining, and other various pieces of beef are all being fried in the middle of the table.
The matter is resolved when a piece of cooked beef is placed directly in front of me, with a demand of, 'eat this'.
"I'm sorry...I decided to be a vegetarian".
"WHAT?!"
The news circles around the table of twenty people like a wild-fire.
The teacher beside me gives a huff and leaves the room.
Every small side dish without any meat is immediately set in a circle around me.
Before I can stop it, they're teaching each other that I am a 'vegetable-ist'.
The teacher beside me returns with a HUGE platter, containing at least six tons of carrot and cucumber sticks. This is placed directly in front of me, 'because I love you'.
What a production.
Later I was telling Mrs ____ about my time in Thailand. I was telling her about the ladyboys, but I had to stop because I was giving her shivers.
She asked me if I knew of Korea's most famous transvestite.
I confessed my ignorance.
"She is married to a man, WHO is THREE YEARS OLDER" (this is a big deal, because in Korea your spouse and friends should be born in the same year as you, give or take one year maximum)
Conspiritually, I leaned in, "do you know, that my mother's husband is *gasp* THIRTEEN years OLDER than my MOTHER!"
If we had been sitting on chairs she would have fallen off hers.
"NOOO" she exclaims with wide eyes "how did they get married!?!"
This news also circles the table. Everyone drops their current conversations to stare at me.
I nod solemnly at all of them. I am speaking the truth.
The dinner was pretty fun over-all.
But still when I burst into Amanda's apartment at 9:30pm, she knew immediately that I had had a "What the Hell?" day.
March 2: The Wrap Up
I've been back in Suncheon for four days now. It already feels like my trip to South East Asia was a dream.
The rest of our time in Mui Ne was just as glorious and relaxing as I could possibly have wished for. Everyday I rented a bicycle ($1USD) and drove several kilometres along the coast. Then I'd spend the rest of the day lounging on the beach, chatting with other travelers.
We sadly waved good-bye to Mui Ne on February 25th. We arrived in Ho Chi Minh after nightfall. We were offloaded across the street from the back-packer portion of the city.
Key phrase: 'across the street'.
Oh my.
99% of the vehicles on the packed roads are motorcycles/scooters. There are no traffic lights; just twenty lanes of vehicles going Southward, and another twenty lanes of vehicles Northen-bound.
Thankfully it's congested enough that no one's driving faster than 30-40km/hr. But no one stops for pedestrians, they simply swerve around you. You have to walk into forty lanes of two-wheeled vehicles with blind faith that no one will hit you.
It's invigorating to say the least.
It's scarier to cross a street in HCMC then it is to drive a bicycle in Siam Reap, and that's saying something!
After being on a beach for a week, the noise and confusion of HCMC was overwhelming. I collasped on our hotel bed, and pleaded with Ali when her fingers reached for the T.V remote, "NOOOO!! Silence PLEASE!!!"
*********************************************************
February 26th was our last day of the trip. Our plane didn't leave until midnight, so we had the whole day to spend as we pleased. Amanda and Susan opted for a tour to the tunnels. Ali took a trip to the reunification palace and the museum formerly known as, "The Museum of American Atrocities".
Lazy Lisa and I were not interested (I would be NOW, but after sight-seeing for so long I was a bit burnt out). So Lisa and I did what any teeny-bopper would do, and spent the day at a waterpark!
It was a bit confusing at first. Our cabbie dropped us off at an amusement park of the same name. We saw carnival rides and said, "no no no, that's not a waterpark!" We were directed 500 sweaty metres to our left. Upon arriving we tried to check in our bags with the locker man, like everyone else was doing.
"No no", grunted the man, "upstairs".
Confused, Lisa and I started to walk away, as he continued to service other people. We found stairs, but they led to a water slide. On our way back to the locker man, I asked another foreigner (who was with a local) how we checked our stuff. He told us we needed to buy a ticket from a lady sitting across from the locker man. Dutifully we approached her, and asked for a ticket.
"Upstairs" she murmers.
Meanwhile, twenty other people are granted the use of the lockers directly behind us. Exasperated, I repeated, "ticket please" with a bit of an edge to my voice.
With a dramatic sigh and eye-rolling we were finally sold tickets. After checking our bags, we climbed the stairs to the waterslide closet to us.
As we were climbing, we stopped and checked out the landing called 'foreigner sunbathe area'. Sure enough, there were lockers.
Can you imagine a waterpark in Canada that had a seperate area for foreigners?
Anyway, Lisa and I had a fabulous afternoon being eleven years old again.
I have nothing more to say about the waterpark, except! that in the washroom (that we got to share with the locals) a lady was combing her hair using a comb that was bolted to the wall. That's right! Communal comb!
To round off our last day, the five of us had a 'last supper' at a fabulous vegetarian restaurant. Then we watched a water-puppet show.
Our tickets said we were in row 's'. I can only assume that the 's' stood for 'splash' row. We were in the very front row, and at a water puppet show that is a wet place to be!
The rest of our time in Mui Ne was just as glorious and relaxing as I could possibly have wished for. Everyday I rented a bicycle ($1USD) and drove several kilometres along the coast. Then I'd spend the rest of the day lounging on the beach, chatting with other travelers.
We sadly waved good-bye to Mui Ne on February 25th. We arrived in Ho Chi Minh after nightfall. We were offloaded across the street from the back-packer portion of the city.
Key phrase: 'across the street'.
Oh my.
99% of the vehicles on the packed roads are motorcycles/scooters. There are no traffic lights; just twenty lanes of vehicles going Southward, and another twenty lanes of vehicles Northen-bound.
Thankfully it's congested enough that no one's driving faster than 30-40km/hr. But no one stops for pedestrians, they simply swerve around you. You have to walk into forty lanes of two-wheeled vehicles with blind faith that no one will hit you.
It's invigorating to say the least.
It's scarier to cross a street in HCMC then it is to drive a bicycle in Siam Reap, and that's saying something!
After being on a beach for a week, the noise and confusion of HCMC was overwhelming. I collasped on our hotel bed, and pleaded with Ali when her fingers reached for the T.V remote, "NOOOO!! Silence PLEASE!!!"
*********************************************************
February 26th was our last day of the trip. Our plane didn't leave until midnight, so we had the whole day to spend as we pleased. Amanda and Susan opted for a tour to the tunnels. Ali took a trip to the reunification palace and the museum formerly known as, "The Museum of American Atrocities".
Lazy Lisa and I were not interested (I would be NOW, but after sight-seeing for so long I was a bit burnt out). So Lisa and I did what any teeny-bopper would do, and spent the day at a waterpark!
It was a bit confusing at first. Our cabbie dropped us off at an amusement park of the same name. We saw carnival rides and said, "no no no, that's not a waterpark!" We were directed 500 sweaty metres to our left. Upon arriving we tried to check in our bags with the locker man, like everyone else was doing.
"No no", grunted the man, "upstairs".
Confused, Lisa and I started to walk away, as he continued to service other people. We found stairs, but they led to a water slide. On our way back to the locker man, I asked another foreigner (who was with a local) how we checked our stuff. He told us we needed to buy a ticket from a lady sitting across from the locker man. Dutifully we approached her, and asked for a ticket.
"Upstairs" she murmers.
Meanwhile, twenty other people are granted the use of the lockers directly behind us. Exasperated, I repeated, "ticket please" with a bit of an edge to my voice.
With a dramatic sigh and eye-rolling we were finally sold tickets. After checking our bags, we climbed the stairs to the waterslide closet to us.
As we were climbing, we stopped and checked out the landing called 'foreigner sunbathe area'. Sure enough, there were lockers.
Can you imagine a waterpark in Canada that had a seperate area for foreigners?
Anyway, Lisa and I had a fabulous afternoon being eleven years old again.
I have nothing more to say about the waterpark, except! that in the washroom (that we got to share with the locals) a lady was combing her hair using a comb that was bolted to the wall. That's right! Communal comb!
To round off our last day, the five of us had a 'last supper' at a fabulous vegetarian restaurant. Then we watched a water-puppet show.
Our tickets said we were in row 's'. I can only assume that the 's' stood for 'splash' row. We were in the very front row, and at a water puppet show that is a wet place to be!
Sunday, February 22, 2009
February 22- Sorry Mom (on two counts)
The first reason I have to apologize to my mother is because she doesn't like it when I participate in dangerous activities. I didn't MEAN to do anything death-defying today...it just sort of happened.
On the very first night we arrived in Mui Ne, our guest house of choice was full. A man on a motorbike touted a different guesthouse to us (he'd get a commission). Tired and lazy, we agreed to stay at his guesthouse. But now, how to get there? The guesthouse was 2km away and we didn't want to haul our bags that distance. We decided to take a taxi. The problem was, there's only one kind of taxi in Mui Ne, and that would be the motorbike taxi. With my suitcase wedged between his legs, and me hanging on to him, my motorbike taxist dropped me off at the guesthouse (the other four arrived in staggered intervals).
I hated the ride. It felt much too dangerous.
So today, when Amanda and Suze rented a motorbike (to drive THEMSELVES), I convinced Lisa that a nice, safe non-motorized bicycle ride would be WAY more fun (and safe...did I say that already?)
Off we headed to see the red sand dunes of Mui Ne (the white dunes are supposed to be prettier but its too far to bike there).
Upon reaching the dunes we immediately spotted the ATV's for rent. I've driven ATV's when I was in elementary school (can I get a rural Nova Scotia YEE-HAW) but not since.
I figured that if I could do it when I was eight years old I could do it now, so we rented the ATV's. I'd like to point out two flaws in my logic.
1. When I was eight I drove on trails (around open fish tanks, but still), not dunes.
2. When I was eight I was not aware of my own mortality.
I knew I was in trouble within the first five seconds.
Lisa and I each had our own ATV and then two men (I suppose they were safety guides) shared another. In order to drive up insanely steep sand dunes, you need to speed towards them as fast as possible.
I was not good at this.
I continuously raced towards these walls of sand, only to find myself slowing, slowing, stopped. And going nowhere. Lisa was a champ and was doing fine, so one tiny, Vietnamese safety guide jumped on my lap, wrapped my arms around his torso (twice, because his torso was so small) and showed me how ATVing on the dunes was supposed to be done.
Well Shit.
It was scarier then the most scary roller coaster ride ever invented. We would CHARGE up cliffs of sand, catching air and riding on two wheels. He would drive right along the edge of these four-story cliffs, while I waited for the edge to crumble and for us to plummet to our deaths. Up another wall we'd roar, only to find ourselves staring down a four-story wall of sand.
It's like that moment at the top of the rollercoaster. That second where you're absolutely still, but you know you're going over the edge and nothing you can do can stop it.
"No!" I shrieked, "Don't go DOWN there! Stop! Stop!"
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH"
Sand came rushing up past us as we roared down the dune.
I wonder how many foreigners typically scream in his ear? Was I the first?
Eventually we circle back to Lisa.
"I'm done!" I announce dramatically. It's been ten minutes into our hour.
"What?!?, but this is so much fun!", Lisa cries as she guns her engine and zooms into the distance.
"I don't want to do this anymore", I declare firmly to my driver. He looks blankly ahead, then launches us into some sort of suicide doughnut maneuver.
Eventually, I get used to the constant shifting of my stomach from my throat to my toes. I start smiling. I start to enjoy myself. My screams turn from screams of terror to screams of exhilaration.
Its breathtakingly beautiful; the sahara-like dunes that overlook the ocean. It's an awesome sight.
My driver feels y death grip loosening. "You" he grunts as he jumps off the ATV.
"Ok, I can do this", I lecture myself...and get stuck in the sand five metres further on. Running after me, my driver un-sticks me and points me in the right direction.
Quickly, I become this man's worst nightmare, as he chases me over sand dunes, constantly un-sticking me, and/or hopping onto my lap to drive me to somewhere I can handle. During one such short drive he insisted that I wear his baseball cap. Unfortunately, his head was as small as the rest of him, and it immediately blew off my head.
I was getting into it though. I was driving up and down bigger and bigger dunes, and getting stuck less and less.
Finally they thought I was ready to go down a small (maybe 10 foot) 90 degree drop on my own.
I wasn't.
I crept to the edge of the cliff and slowly inched over. So slowly in fact, that my wheels didn't turn at all on my descent, I just ploughed through the sand (which everyone found hilarious).
All in all it was a wicked experience, and I'm glad everyone completely ignored me when I said I wanted to quit.
So sorry mom, for doing a dangerous activity.
Oh yeah...remember how I said I was sorry on two counts? Well...when we got on our ATVs I asked Lisa to carry the digital camera you got me for Christmas last year. She put it in her shoulder bag, which had an unfortunate meeting with her exhaust pipe.
My camera melted.
It is WRECKED.
My driver got the memory stick out, so hopefully my 400+ pictures have survived.
I'm genuinely sorry mom, I really didn't mean to ruin one of the best gifts I've ever been given:(
ps. What were you thinking giving me something so easily destroyed? Have you MET me? :)
On the very first night we arrived in Mui Ne, our guest house of choice was full. A man on a motorbike touted a different guesthouse to us (he'd get a commission). Tired and lazy, we agreed to stay at his guesthouse. But now, how to get there? The guesthouse was 2km away and we didn't want to haul our bags that distance. We decided to take a taxi. The problem was, there's only one kind of taxi in Mui Ne, and that would be the motorbike taxi. With my suitcase wedged between his legs, and me hanging on to him, my motorbike taxist dropped me off at the guesthouse (the other four arrived in staggered intervals).
I hated the ride. It felt much too dangerous.
So today, when Amanda and Suze rented a motorbike (to drive THEMSELVES), I convinced Lisa that a nice, safe non-motorized bicycle ride would be WAY more fun (and safe...did I say that already?)
Off we headed to see the red sand dunes of Mui Ne (the white dunes are supposed to be prettier but its too far to bike there).
Upon reaching the dunes we immediately spotted the ATV's for rent. I've driven ATV's when I was in elementary school (can I get a rural Nova Scotia YEE-HAW) but not since.
I figured that if I could do it when I was eight years old I could do it now, so we rented the ATV's. I'd like to point out two flaws in my logic.
1. When I was eight I drove on trails (around open fish tanks, but still), not dunes.
2. When I was eight I was not aware of my own mortality.
I knew I was in trouble within the first five seconds.
Lisa and I each had our own ATV and then two men (I suppose they were safety guides) shared another. In order to drive up insanely steep sand dunes, you need to speed towards them as fast as possible.
I was not good at this.
I continuously raced towards these walls of sand, only to find myself slowing, slowing, stopped. And going nowhere. Lisa was a champ and was doing fine, so one tiny, Vietnamese safety guide jumped on my lap, wrapped my arms around his torso (twice, because his torso was so small) and showed me how ATVing on the dunes was supposed to be done.
Well Shit.
It was scarier then the most scary roller coaster ride ever invented. We would CHARGE up cliffs of sand, catching air and riding on two wheels. He would drive right along the edge of these four-story cliffs, while I waited for the edge to crumble and for us to plummet to our deaths. Up another wall we'd roar, only to find ourselves staring down a four-story wall of sand.
It's like that moment at the top of the rollercoaster. That second where you're absolutely still, but you know you're going over the edge and nothing you can do can stop it.
"No!" I shrieked, "Don't go DOWN there! Stop! Stop!"
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH"
Sand came rushing up past us as we roared down the dune.
I wonder how many foreigners typically scream in his ear? Was I the first?
Eventually we circle back to Lisa.
"I'm done!" I announce dramatically. It's been ten minutes into our hour.
"What?!?, but this is so much fun!", Lisa cries as she guns her engine and zooms into the distance.
"I don't want to do this anymore", I declare firmly to my driver. He looks blankly ahead, then launches us into some sort of suicide doughnut maneuver.
Eventually, I get used to the constant shifting of my stomach from my throat to my toes. I start smiling. I start to enjoy myself. My screams turn from screams of terror to screams of exhilaration.
Its breathtakingly beautiful; the sahara-like dunes that overlook the ocean. It's an awesome sight.
My driver feels y death grip loosening. "You" he grunts as he jumps off the ATV.
"Ok, I can do this", I lecture myself...and get stuck in the sand five metres further on. Running after me, my driver un-sticks me and points me in the right direction.
Quickly, I become this man's worst nightmare, as he chases me over sand dunes, constantly un-sticking me, and/or hopping onto my lap to drive me to somewhere I can handle. During one such short drive he insisted that I wear his baseball cap. Unfortunately, his head was as small as the rest of him, and it immediately blew off my head.
I was getting into it though. I was driving up and down bigger and bigger dunes, and getting stuck less and less.
Finally they thought I was ready to go down a small (maybe 10 foot) 90 degree drop on my own.
I wasn't.
I crept to the edge of the cliff and slowly inched over. So slowly in fact, that my wheels didn't turn at all on my descent, I just ploughed through the sand (which everyone found hilarious).
All in all it was a wicked experience, and I'm glad everyone completely ignored me when I said I wanted to quit.
So sorry mom, for doing a dangerous activity.
Oh yeah...remember how I said I was sorry on two counts? Well...when we got on our ATVs I asked Lisa to carry the digital camera you got me for Christmas last year. She put it in her shoulder bag, which had an unfortunate meeting with her exhaust pipe.
My camera melted.
It is WRECKED.
My driver got the memory stick out, so hopefully my 400+ pictures have survived.
I'm genuinely sorry mom, I really didn't mean to ruin one of the best gifts I've ever been given:(
ps. What were you thinking giving me something so easily destroyed? Have you MET me? :)
February 21- More Mui Ne
Today I have nothing special to report. It was just a lovely day at the beach.
Instead of a locust tonight I was greeted by a mouse-sized cockroach. Although I'd had success with the locust yesterday; tonight I called in the big guns. After Lisa herded out the cockroach, I once again ensconced myself in mosquito netting and had a good night's sleep.
Instead of a locust tonight I was greeted by a mouse-sized cockroach. Although I'd had success with the locust yesterday; tonight I called in the big guns. After Lisa herded out the cockroach, I once again ensconced myself in mosquito netting and had a good night's sleep.
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