We spent one night in Chau Doc, at the edge of Vietnam, and it was by far the sketchiest place we've been. Swarmed by the legion of taxi and moto drivers at the bus station, we stuck up our noses at their ridiculous offers and donned our ponchos to venture out in the rain for better prices and less obnoxious people. One of the moto drivers ran into my leg and left a nice tire mark on the back of my calf. We were bothered so incessantly by one driver and he offered such an incredibly low price that we consented to a ride to our hotel. It was a good choice because the center of town was quite a ways off, and without a ride, it would have taken us forever to get there. We each had a driver and we kept our eyes on one another until we reached a guest house which wasn't at all the one we had asked for. Finally, we had gotten to experience the too-well-known gig of being taken somewhere that gives the drivers commission. We were very loud in our complaints and they offered to take us now to the destination we had requested. "Don't waste my time," I told my driver, "or you don't get paid at all." They brought us to the hotel which was cheap and clean, and we were glad to finally be at the border.
We walked down dark, dirty alleyways in search of cash and water and kept our eyes open for the night market. We returned to our hotel immediately, and there we enjoyed dinner at a floating restaurant, held up in the water on short stilts and accessed only by uneven hand-made wooden ramps. We booked our boat for the next day and as we fell asleep, with a request to be woken up early enough for breakfast, Derek fought to kill the mass of gnats that had invaded our room. We slept with a light on that night to keep them drawn away from us...the town was FULL of bugs, everywhere you looked. Really a crummy town. If you go through here, don't stay longer than you have to.
The next day, our internal alarm clocks kicked in, and as is usually the case, we had no clock. No one had woken us, though we had reiterated our request til we were blue in the face, and we threw our stuff together, scared that we'd end up missing the boat and having to remain here another day. Fifteen minutes after we were supposed to get up, a woman opens our door and sticks her head in (our wake up call, we think), and immediately leaves. Not two minutes later, she comes in again (no one knocks...be dressed at all times if there's any way they could have a duplicate key) and in broken Vietnamese yells that I have to get out. I haven't the faintest idea where Derek is, and I'm pissed that the woman would have woken us up and given us only 2 minutes to get out of the room to meet our ride which was 15 minutes early. Derek met me downstairs with bread he had picked up from a street vendor, and we sit to wait for our driver. A man with a cart is asking if we want a ride, which we routinely reply that no, we don't need a driver. Turns out he was our driver, but no one told us and he certainly didn't speak enough English to let us know that we were supposed to go with him. Surrounded by three others with the same vehicle, wanting to take us wherever we wished to go, he blended in so well that it took us five minutes to figure out that we were, in fact, waiting for him.
We met up with a massive group of foreigners in a cafe, where we ordered butter and jam for our dry bread, but we didn't get to use even half as we set off directly, separated from our bags, and walked to the pier. The boat ride went smoothly, and we met some very nice people. We visited a fish farm, which is common in this area set up under the house. We went to a village to visit the Cham people, who are known for towel weaving (the towels are almost the same as all the other scarves around, but they use them as towels) and found them to be very happy and photogenic. Some kids selling waffles rattled off their rehearsed pitch in very monotonous voices, so much so that we wondered if the Cham people might have built robots to look like children to sell their wares.
* Side note - I have yet to see actual "syrup"...pancakes come with honey, which they call syrup
The ride began very pleasantly. We didn't expect it to take more than a few hours. People along the river waved as we passed, which I thought amazing, since they must see foreigners every day pass by, always taking video and pictures of them in their daily routines (washing clothes, dishes, brushing their teeth, bathing, washing their cattle) and would think after awhile they'd get sick of waving. But they always did. Then, we sat at the border for forever while our visas were worked out by our guide. He also offered to change our money for us, but we were too guarded because we didn't trust his exchange rate and figured we'd trade in town.
Note to fellow travelers - when entering Cambodia from Vietnam, CHANGE YOUR MONEY RIGHT AWAY. No one in Cambodia would take our Dong, so we had $100 in useless currency and still do now. Hindsight is 20/20, naturally, but if the boat driver offers to change your money, take him up on it, if only in this instance. We used US Dollars for everything while in Cambodia (their money is the Riel, but they only use it for 20% of transactions, usually as a replacement for US coin).
It began to pour, so we traveled in a tarp-covered boat, but though this kept the rain out, it made it very stuffy inside and since we were all right on top of the engine, I opted for fresh air and water than to suffocate from the fumes. It was a VERY long rest of the way there...we underestimated our travel time by at least 5 hours. After awhile, sitting on the hard boards and trying to avoid the line of ants running behind you gets very old. When we finally stopped, we weren't in the city center yet, and had to get into a van which dropped us off at a Phnom Penh guest house, where we took the bait and opted to stay because we were tired and hungry. We hadn't eaten almost at all, anticipating getting in early enough for a late lunch, and at 8:30 we headed out to finally fill ourselves up. Vietnam was now behind us, and a very packed week or so in Cambodia was ahead.
July 23, 2010
July 19, 2010
Bygone Saigon
After two days of recovery for colds we had developed from general uncleanliness and no sleep, we left the room one evening to see a water puppet show (I went with some friends from Britain, Derek didn't come) and to visit the Ngoc Son Temple on Hoan Kiem Lake, where a giant turtle is "embalmed" but is not a very convincing specimen. The water puppet show was created in the Hanoi area in the 11th Century by rice farmers. The puppet masters control the figures by poles that run under water, and they stand behind a curtain to run the show. The stage is all on a square, lake-like surface. If you're in Vietnam, it's a must.We took a flight the following day to Ho Chi Minh City, and on the way, we experienced attempted extortion by our cab driver, who tried to have us pay 1/4 the price of the already expensive drive as a reimbursement for "toll fees" that he had supposedly paid. We didn't pay it, but he was pissed.
Ho Chi Minh City, known still by the locals as Saigon, is a much more relaxed place than Hanoi despite its doubled population (7 million; Hanoi -3.7 million). On arrival, we met with a group from a global outreach for Habitat for Humanity and they gave us a free ride to downtown! We had lunch at Sozo, a Christian organization that trains street kids in Vietnam for culinary employment. The staff was friendly and the internet was free - we were in a good place. We found some excellent street food (Bun Cha) and an overpacked grocery store. Our room must have been 7 floors up. All the buildings in Vietnam are narrow and tall. The front is the width of a strip mall shop, but they build back and up as far as they can, so most of our rooms have been a painful climb.
We visited Reunification Palace, where we saw the digs the south Vietnam "President" was setting up for himself before the northern army brought a few Russian- and Chinese-made tanks through their front gate, ending the north-south conflict for Vietnam on 15 April, 1975. We enjoyed the underground bunkers and the old equipment, all frozen in time. They had tanks and a jet on display in the lawn, copies of the ones that had ruined the gate and bombed the building, respectively, and a US helicopter on the roof.
We walked to the War Remnants Museum, whose front lawn area was filled to the brim with US military equipment left behind (too bad - we could probably still use them) and had many pictures of people harmed by the war. The tone of the museum was decidedly propogandist - the US was an evil conquerer bent on destroying civilized humanity, wanting to rip Vietnam apart for its own purposes, against the wishes of all Vietnamese people. It was very tough to see, as an American, and the pictures themselves bespoke atrocities that should never have occurred, but the government-run museum certainly didn't post pictures of any of the atrocities that they were responsible for, so in the end, you left feeling sorry for the whole mess, and sad for anyone who fought, only to have their efforts later portrayed in such a poor light. Ah, well, such are the politics of war.
Insert - I'm sick of Asian TV. Whiney female voices, all of them, and cheesy karate films, which are entertaining as an accidental comedy, and not for their intended purposes.
We saw the Notre Dame Cathedral, where mass was being held. We ate at a posh, but very cheap, restaurant called Quan An Ngon where we enjoyed Bun Bo Nam Bo. We left the next morning on a two day trip to the Mekong Delta region. Our first stop was Mytho, where we saw a coconut candy "factory" (some machines, just as many people, but the assembly line concept was in effect), rode horribly broken-down bikes through the countryside, dodging donkey-pulled carts and trucks stuffed to the brim with chickens. In Ben Tre, we took a small boat paddled by an older woman in a rice hat through very narrow canals in the mangroves to a fruit orchard, where we sampled local fruits until overrun by bees.
We had honey tea (soooo good) and held a python at the bee farm, where I hid in plain sight from the swarm that didn't seem the least bit interested in anything but our drinks. A boat back to the bus which took us on to Cantho ended our first day. We met Michael and Marion Milch of France and dined with them on questionable chicken dishes on the water. It was a beautiful region, but the bus ride was violently bumpy as we crossed more bridges than there are characters in this message.
July 15, 2010
Hell Bus
I woke up in the middle of the night having to go to the bathroom desperately, and after crawling over the sleeping bodies in the aisles, I managed to share my growing concern with the driver's assistant. Repeatedly, we stopped and I wasn't allowed off. Finally, we stopped to pick up a woman, and I dashed into the alley...never gone so fast in all my life! Another two women followed me, and we were back on the bus in a flash.
About 3:45 am, the bus stopped at a dark lot, and some people slowly unloaded their things. The driver turned the bus off, and we're all thinking that he must be taking another cigarette break. A half hour later, unable to fall asleep again and sweating from the lack of circulating air, someone asked the driver when we'd be off again, to which he replied that he was no longer driving that night. No, he wasn't being replaced...he was just done. He got a chair and some other Vietnamese joined him outside the bus, lying down in the street or smoking. We were stunned, and very out of it. As the morning light began to rise, we got off the bus to find some moving air, and realized we were in a dump, with other busses, nowhere conceivably near Hanoi. The driver laughed at our request to turn the air back on, and someone managed to get him to tell us, an hour later, that a local bus would come and pick us up. We got so sick of waiting, we paired up with an Israeli girl traveling alone and got a taxi back into town.
About 3:45 am, the bus stopped at a dark lot, and some people slowly unloaded their things. The driver turned the bus off, and we're all thinking that he must be taking another cigarette break. A half hour later, unable to fall asleep again and sweating from the lack of circulating air, someone asked the driver when we'd be off again, to which he replied that he was no longer driving that night. No, he wasn't being replaced...he was just done. He got a chair and some other Vietnamese joined him outside the bus, lying down in the street or smoking. We were stunned, and very out of it. As the morning light began to rise, we got off the bus to find some moving air, and realized we were in a dump, with other busses, nowhere conceivably near Hanoi. The driver laughed at our request to turn the air back on, and someone managed to get him to tell us, an hour later, that a local bus would come and pick us up. We got so sick of waiting, we paired up with an Israeli girl traveling alone and got a taxi back into town.
July 14, 2010
A Rice Paddy For Your Thoughts
Growing exhausted by the alternating 'this-is-wonderful-wait-it's-terrible-ope-now-it's-amazing' nature of life in Hanoi, we journeyed north to the remote mountain station of Sapa close to the border with China. After taking a taxi to the train station and arranging for the cheapest sleeper ticket on a train we hoped was heading to Sapa, we set about our day in the city and then returned ready to sleep it off in the train.
An entire Vietnamese family was prepared to sleep it off with us, however, as we were situated on the top, coffin-like bunks in a cabin shared with the rambuncious (and noisy bunch. Glad to have finally found the train- given that Vietnamese public transit is the transportation version of a chicken with it's head cut off - we found sleep anyway despite the lack of head room and noise emanating below.
We awoke to the mass departure of everyone around us and, in the well-established tradition of venturing out without knowing if we'd made it there yet or not, we got off anyway. A legion of shuttle bus drivers met us with offers of plush seats available for the drive up into the mountains. '150,000,"they said. "30,000," Kendra returned. They immediately accepted, and so we were off.
The gorgeous drive heavily featured rice paddy terraces framing steep mountain ridges and cliffs framed by absent -inded water buffalo chewing the day away. The views were so beautiful they could've made a Swiss person cry, and the cool mountain air, pine trees, and stunning views instantly reminded me of back home.
Walking to the guest house we'd planned on staying at, we were met by Mah, a local woman dressed traditionally and carrying an adorable baby strapped to her back. She spoke excellent English and asked us about where we were from and what our plans were. She offered for us to spend the night with her after hiking the 4.5mi into her village, and, feeling adventurous, we accepted.
With a homestay, we purchase the food for dinner and breakfast while the family provides us lodging. that way we get a wonderful experience for a very low cost and they get an expensive meal they normally couldn't afford. After resting in a nearby restaurant - changing and cleaning up in the bathroom - we began the insanely beautiful trek down into the most picturesque valley in the world.
After talking at length during the downhill hike, and splitting a massive cucumber which we ate like a watermelon, we arrived at Mah's home. The modest accomodations were framed by the beautiful scenery, and we were instantly welcomed by her extremely friendly family. Another local woman shoed me to her house, where she prepares garments by hand, stripping, sewing, and dying hemp cloth then weaving it with a wooden loom. Jin, mah's husband (they're both 20 and have 3 children) helped with a dinner that was fantastic. After lots of conversation, we retired to our bed but not before many games of "Go Fish." Despite having just taught Mah and Jin, they did a great job and scored several wins.
Our night's sleep was eventful, as our mat over straw on the dirt floor afforded little protection from an army of curious insects. The many farm animals were also bent on destroying our hopes of consistent rest, but we endured and wouldn't change the experience for the world. After a wonderful breakfast, more photos, and a long goodbye with the family, we hiked to a nearby village and caught motorbikes back up into the city.
We rested the remainder of the day in the city's peaceful park and found lunch at a restaurant with an impossibly gorgeous view. We would then catch a night bus back to Hanoi, and little did we know what that bus would bring. . .
An entire Vietnamese family was prepared to sleep it off with us, however, as we were situated on the top, coffin-like bunks in a cabin shared with the rambuncious (and noisy bunch. Glad to have finally found the train- given that Vietnamese public transit is the transportation version of a chicken with it's head cut off - we found sleep anyway despite the lack of head room and noise emanating below.
We awoke to the mass departure of everyone around us and, in the well-established tradition of venturing out without knowing if we'd made it there yet or not, we got off anyway. A legion of shuttle bus drivers met us with offers of plush seats available for the drive up into the mountains. '150,000,"they said. "30,000," Kendra returned. They immediately accepted, and so we were off.
The gorgeous drive heavily featured rice paddy terraces framing steep mountain ridges and cliffs framed by absent -inded water buffalo chewing the day away. The views were so beautiful they could've made a Swiss person cry, and the cool mountain air, pine trees, and stunning views instantly reminded me of back home.
Walking to the guest house we'd planned on staying at, we were met by Mah, a local woman dressed traditionally and carrying an adorable baby strapped to her back. She spoke excellent English and asked us about where we were from and what our plans were. She offered for us to spend the night with her after hiking the 4.5mi into her village, and, feeling adventurous, we accepted.
With a homestay, we purchase the food for dinner and breakfast while the family provides us lodging. that way we get a wonderful experience for a very low cost and they get an expensive meal they normally couldn't afford. After resting in a nearby restaurant - changing and cleaning up in the bathroom - we began the insanely beautiful trek down into the most picturesque valley in the world.
After talking at length during the downhill hike, and splitting a massive cucumber which we ate like a watermelon, we arrived at Mah's home. The modest accomodations were framed by the beautiful scenery, and we were instantly welcomed by her extremely friendly family. Another local woman shoed me to her house, where she prepares garments by hand, stripping, sewing, and dying hemp cloth then weaving it with a wooden loom. Jin, mah's husband (they're both 20 and have 3 children) helped with a dinner that was fantastic. After lots of conversation, we retired to our bed but not before many games of "Go Fish." Despite having just taught Mah and Jin, they did a great job and scored several wins.
Our night's sleep was eventful, as our mat over straw on the dirt floor afforded little protection from an army of curious insects. The many farm animals were also bent on destroying our hopes of consistent rest, but we endured and wouldn't change the experience for the world. After a wonderful breakfast, more photos, and a long goodbye with the family, we hiked to a nearby village and caught motorbikes back up into the city.
We rested the remainder of the day in the city's peaceful park and found lunch at a restaurant with an impossibly gorgeous view. We would then catch a night bus back to Hanoi, and little did we know what that bus would bring. . .
July 08, 2010
High Highs and Low Lows
Our first day in Hanoi, we checked out of our room with the intention of taking a bus to Nin Binh, but our late departure and our hotel receptionist held us up just long enough to make traveling that day a waste of time. So, when a taxi was called for us, we took it to the train station instead and bought tickets on the local train to Sapa, where hilltribes are settled in the north. We went to the Temple of Literature, set up by a Vietnamese king in 1070 to honor Confucius and was soon after converted into Vietnam's first university. Here, stone turtles hold the names and birth places of 1306 men who were awarded doctorates from the triennial examinations held here at the Quốc Tử Giám ("Imperial Academy") between 1484 and 1780.
We had lunch at KOTO (*Know One, Teach One), a nearby non-profit restaurant that trains street kids in the culinary arts and helps them to get jobs all over Southeast Asia. Then, we caught a cab to the Vietnam Museum of Ethnology and spent the afternoon looking at model houses, costumes, tools and handicrafts of the various hilltribes and subcultures of the Vietnamese people. We managed to catch part of a water puppet show outside, which I'll elaborate on after I've seen a proper show tonight.
We tried to get to Hoan Kiem Lake to see Ngoc Son Temple before closing, but the rising taxi fare and traffic forced us to bail early, and we ended up at a Botanical Gardens park. We watched the runners with some amusement...a video alone could describe their unconventional dress and form. We saw a cage with peacocks and another with monkeys. At one point, we realized my sunglasses were no longer on my shirt, and we searched after them for a half hour in vain. A few tears (on my part) and a serious rest on a park bench brought us some perspective. We were tired and thirsty and frustrated...one of those times when you hit your limit but you're nowhere near any place that can make it better. So, we caught a cab to JoMa, a favorite cafe from our time in Luang Prabang, and stuffed our faces with milkshakes and pizza. We washed our feet and brushed our teeth in the restroom and drank all the free water we could get our hands on. We had carried our things with us, on our backs, all day long, and it was so nice just to sit away from the traffic and the people, if only for an hour.
After a hurried day of covering all the "must see" spots in Hanoi, we purchased sleeper train tickets to the northern city of Lao Cai, a border town with China. Our sleeper was a very tight fit, to say the least, and the Vietnamese family that shared the car with us was amused and a bit irritated that we would be joining them. Since the train left pretty late, we went straight to bed, but not before snapping some pictures of our cheap predicament.
Some time around 8 am, everyone started unloading, but no one mentioned which stop we were at. We have struggled here more than in any other region with communicating with the locals. Most often, no one attempts to help you, and they laugh when you ask questions and sometimes just walk away. It's a very frustrating cultural "lesson" to learn. Here, we caught a minibus into Sapa, and we held out on our lower rate of 30,000d when they threw prices like 150,000d at us - we were groggy and sleep-deprived, but we knew we were too stubborn to bend to their demands, and we got what we wanted.
The drive up takes about an hour and a half, and most of the way, we just gawked at the beauty outside the windows. The mountains were almost all cultivating rice, down steep slopes of the greenest green you've ever seen. We were blocked at times by massive water buffalo that sauntered along the skinny roads without much care for our schedule. We sped along, barely missing massive busses coming from the other direction, and never really sure which side of the road we were "supposed" to be driving on (they drive on the right side, like in the US, and like in Laos). Hilltribe women and children sat alongside the road in their colorful costumes - a preview of what we were sure to see in town.
We had lunch at KOTO (*Know One, Teach One), a nearby non-profit restaurant that trains street kids in the culinary arts and helps them to get jobs all over Southeast Asia. Then, we caught a cab to the Vietnam Museum of Ethnology and spent the afternoon looking at model houses, costumes, tools and handicrafts of the various hilltribes and subcultures of the Vietnamese people. We managed to catch part of a water puppet show outside, which I'll elaborate on after I've seen a proper show tonight.
We tried to get to Hoan Kiem Lake to see Ngoc Son Temple before closing, but the rising taxi fare and traffic forced us to bail early, and we ended up at a Botanical Gardens park. We watched the runners with some amusement...a video alone could describe their unconventional dress and form. We saw a cage with peacocks and another with monkeys. At one point, we realized my sunglasses were no longer on my shirt, and we searched after them for a half hour in vain. A few tears (on my part) and a serious rest on a park bench brought us some perspective. We were tired and thirsty and frustrated...one of those times when you hit your limit but you're nowhere near any place that can make it better. So, we caught a cab to JoMa, a favorite cafe from our time in Luang Prabang, and stuffed our faces with milkshakes and pizza. We washed our feet and brushed our teeth in the restroom and drank all the free water we could get our hands on. We had carried our things with us, on our backs, all day long, and it was so nice just to sit away from the traffic and the people, if only for an hour.
After a hurried day of covering all the "must see" spots in Hanoi, we purchased sleeper train tickets to the northern city of Lao Cai, a border town with China. Our sleeper was a very tight fit, to say the least, and the Vietnamese family that shared the car with us was amused and a bit irritated that we would be joining them. Since the train left pretty late, we went straight to bed, but not before snapping some pictures of our cheap predicament.
Some time around 8 am, everyone started unloading, but no one mentioned which stop we were at. We have struggled here more than in any other region with communicating with the locals. Most often, no one attempts to help you, and they laugh when you ask questions and sometimes just walk away. It's a very frustrating cultural "lesson" to learn. Here, we caught a minibus into Sapa, and we held out on our lower rate of 30,000d when they threw prices like 150,000d at us - we were groggy and sleep-deprived, but we knew we were too stubborn to bend to their demands, and we got what we wanted.
The drive up takes about an hour and a half, and most of the way, we just gawked at the beauty outside the windows. The mountains were almost all cultivating rice, down steep slopes of the greenest green you've ever seen. We were blocked at times by massive water buffalo that sauntered along the skinny roads without much care for our schedule. We sped along, barely missing massive busses coming from the other direction, and never really sure which side of the road we were "supposed" to be driving on (they drive on the right side, like in the US, and like in Laos). Hilltribe women and children sat alongside the road in their colorful costumes - a preview of what we were sure to see in town.
July 01, 2010
For Lucky
We've been in Luang Prabang, Laos, for the past few days and absolutely love it here.
Everything is just amazing- the contrast of the decaying French Colonial architecture with the Lao culture and numerous temples, to fresh-baked baguettes accompanying each meal... it's extraordinary! There's far too much to write about given the short amount of time that we have here in a little internet cafe, but a few highlights:
- Hiking up alongside Kuang Si waterfall and climbing up a section of the falls to reach a secret lagoon so impossibly beautiful that it's beyond description. We kept remarking that it seemed fake it was so stunning!
- Perusing the night market that forms on the main road each evening with gorgeous silk scarves and all sorts of incredible items, framed by lights reflecting off the nearby temples.
- Meeting excellent new friends from England and the United States that we've met up with a couple times since sharing a tour with them to the Buddha Cave (a remote cave above the Mekong River filled with discarded Buddha statues), and learning about their lives and experiences here in Asia.
- Sharing a cup of fruit (mango, pineapple, banana, apple, dragonfruit, and piya) while waiting for a french crepe from one of the roadside carts.
"For Lucky" is the phrase vendors at the Hmong night market use to let you know that you are receiving a special discounted price for being their first customer. We doubt it's authenticity because we hear it every time we reach a new vendor, but we've taken them up on the well-wishing once or twice in exchange for beautiful Lao handicrafts.
We love it here and are sad to move on in the next few days, but we're perfectly safe, very happy, and taking lots of pictures (which have just been uploaded), so look for some exciting additions in the next few days.
Also, we're in Hanoi, Vietnam - just arrived this afternoon. We'll be heading out tomorrow to take a bus to a nearby village that is closer to some natural beauty we want to see...thanks for your continued love, support, and prayers.
Everything is just amazing- the contrast of the decaying French Colonial architecture with the Lao culture and numerous temples, to fresh-baked baguettes accompanying each meal... it's extraordinary! There's far too much to write about given the short amount of time that we have here in a little internet cafe, but a few highlights:
- Hiking up alongside Kuang Si waterfall and climbing up a section of the falls to reach a secret lagoon so impossibly beautiful that it's beyond description. We kept remarking that it seemed fake it was so stunning!
- Perusing the night market that forms on the main road each evening with gorgeous silk scarves and all sorts of incredible items, framed by lights reflecting off the nearby temples.
- Meeting excellent new friends from England and the United States that we've met up with a couple times since sharing a tour with them to the Buddha Cave (a remote cave above the Mekong River filled with discarded Buddha statues), and learning about their lives and experiences here in Asia.
- Sharing a cup of fruit (mango, pineapple, banana, apple, dragonfruit, and piya) while waiting for a french crepe from one of the roadside carts.
"For Lucky" is the phrase vendors at the Hmong night market use to let you know that you are receiving a special discounted price for being their first customer. We doubt it's authenticity because we hear it every time we reach a new vendor, but we've taken them up on the well-wishing once or twice in exchange for beautiful Lao handicrafts.
We love it here and are sad to move on in the next few days, but we're perfectly safe, very happy, and taking lots of pictures (which have just been uploaded), so look for some exciting additions in the next few days.
Also, we're in Hanoi, Vietnam - just arrived this afternoon. We'll be heading out tomorrow to take a bus to a nearby village that is closer to some natural beauty we want to see...thanks for your continued love, support, and prayers.
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